#dark! Eddie Munson
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gravedigginbbydoll · 1 year ago
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Phantom of the Night
Phantom! Eddie x Fem! Reader Smut Blurb
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AN: Hello! I am a huge POTO fan, and obsessed with men in masks. I wanted to write this for fun and for spooky season. It's a length and smut filled blurb. I'm sorry about the college of pictures not being as inclusive as I'd like (it's hard asf to find POTO aesthetic in varying body types :/ ) but promise that the description is vague and meant for anyone AFAB or feminine leaning :) (psst: this ones for my ghouls @eddies-house @xxhellfiregirlxx @ghost-proofbaby who I adore and feed my delusions lol)
Warnings: MDNI! mature themes, dubcon, vouyerism, somnophilia, mentions of exhibitionism, corruption kink, bondage, biting, oral, penetration, virginity, loss of innocence, masks, dom! Eddie, posessive, body worship, stalking and obsession, kidnapping, etc.
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As a child, you had been brought up in the exquisite opera house that your town boasted of, your father taking you often to see the shows and ballets performed there. He was a violinist, a talented one at that, and had many close friends who performed at the opera. Growing up, it was just the two of you. Your mother had grown deathly ill when you were five. She passed there soon after, leaving you and your father alone. In womanhood now, you sensed that he brought you to the opera so often rather than get you a nanny to distract you with elaborate performances in order to hide your fearful loneliness that a young girl got with losing her mother. 
But now you were a woman, a member of the opera yourself in the corps de ballet, your years of training under Karen, your father’s old friend, finally coming into play. You took the job soon after your father's death when you turned 20, desperate to keep the estate he left you and not leave the home and comfort of the opera house. Besides, you loved ballet and the elegance it left you feeling, despite the pain. But it was nothing compared to your true love. Singing. Music. 
Your father had you take singing lessons as a young girl, but those lessons were now lost in years of memories. You tried to practice alone but felt off-pitch. It was disheartening. You mostly had done so as a hobby rather than a real-life pursuit of the stage, not believing yourself to be skilled enough. You kept it hidden from the rest of the troupe, embarrassed over what they would say about a grown woman attempting to learn to sing and having daydreams of the stage. 
Which is what led you to this point. You had found a few places to practice in the opera house, the building so old that there were many hidden passageways and nooks and crannies. You often tried to use these locations in order to practice. Your betrothed, Steven, constantly scolded you and claimed one day you would get lost and no one would be able to find you in the maze that was the opera house. (Steven meant well, but could sometimes be more like a mother hen.) Still, you found yourself overwhelmed by curiosity and in need to explore more and more of the building. 
You looked around, curious to see if anyone was nearby. You had found this entrance behind a mirror in a makeup room, the dark and almost damp hallway confusing you. You walked on further, the long skirts of your white gown brushing the cold stone floor, probably dirtying the edges. You held the candle you used as a light in a shaky hand, goosebumps erupting on your skin at the chill. This place reminded you of dreams you so often had involving a dark dim cave, some mysterious yet enchanting man…no, creature…whisking you away with his lulling voice and seductive tones. You felt your heart race and your thighs squeeze together at the thought. 
You were ashamed of these dark desires. You were always told that women weren’t meant to feel lust. Ballerinas were not meant to daydream about dark and haunting shadowy figures whisking them away into the night against their will. That was why you were so passive in your arranged engagement with Steven. What did it matter that you felt not a bit of swirling desire for the man if you were not meant to? He had good money and was kind and treated you well, despite your less-than-normal childhood. Maybe after the wedding, you could squash all these horrid and sinful feelings in your belly. 
While lost in thoughts, you heard a gust of wind brush by you, the sudden draft blowing out your candle. You gasped, your heart racing as you caught the sudden flash of movement by you, fear squeezing up your throat. The figure moved in a flash, clearly tall and lean. 
“Hello? Who goes there?” You called out, willing yourself to swallow down the frightful feelings in your belly. 
Nothing could be heard but the faint drip of aging pipes and the rustle of the wind in the ancient hallways. You sighed, turning back to where you came from. Perhaps Nancy was correct and you could stand to stop reading things filling your head with the idea of monsters lurking in the night. 
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You laid on the gaudy chaise lounge, restless and unable to sleep. Karen, in an attempt to be motherly with you, was earlier discussing ‘wifely duties’ with you, well aware that your education on the matter was crude at best from the words you heard other girls in the corps giggle over. Or occasionally, the male singers would boast of their escapades. She filled you with this idea that women were to lay there to be for their husbands and bear children. But you couldn’t shake the feeling of wanting more. For the past few months, you had been…exploring your own desires. You found you couldn’t sleep without it. And yet…
Tonight you were staying at the opera in an attempt to curb the dark desires in your belly. You knew nothing of a man’s touch but did not want to sully Steven with your lustful and seductive thoughts. You hoped staying in a room not your own would discourage your brain from such thoughts.
You agreed with Karen to stay in the private dressing room, despite the fluttering gasps of your peers in the corps. There were rumors of a dark figure that haunted the opera house, always causing mischief, running around and stealing props, leaving notes on the music sheets, and even occasionally harassing the singers by wrecking their rooms. You weren’t one for superstition, but felt also that perhaps the girls had a point. You had felt a presence near you often, something lingering but still there. 
Just as you did lying there. You were only in your nightgown, the fabric thin and not modest at all. You could feel a presence despite the room being empty. You stared at the ceiling, your heart racing and an even more sinful thought entering your head. 
What if you touched yourself with that presence watching? 
You felt the heat creep from your neck to the tips of your ears, clearly embarrassed despite the lack of company. The thought excited you, the heat growing between your legs and your nipples pebbling at the thought. You sighed, cursing yourself but knowing you could not rest without the feeling of release. 
You shakily grabbed at your skirt, pulling it up while turning to look at your reflection in the mirror. The mirror faced the chaise lounge. You felt a gasp escape your mouth as you looked at yourself. You looked…delectable. Absolutely depraved. Your eyes were dark with lust and your nightgown revealed most of your bare legs, part of it tugged down to reveal cleavage as your hardened nipples poked through the delicate white fabric. 
You began to rub at the wetness between your legs, mewling pathetically at the friction and staring at yourself losing control. You felt your mind go foggy, your wetness growing as your moans became more desperate. You felt your eyes flutter, feeling as if the presence was staring at you. And whether it was the small sip you had of wine earlier you had with Karen or the lust clouding your thoughts, you swore you could see a shadow within the mirror, a pair of warm and sultry brown eyes slightly visible. The sight of the shadow caused you to reveal more of yourself, feeling the need to put on a winning show. You threw your head back, pulling the nightgown down more to free your breasts to the chilly air as you rubbed at your clit more ferociously, your moans and whimpers growing in desperation. You felt the tension in the room grow as the feeling grew before the tension snapped, leaving you shattering to pieces.  
You panted as you came down from your high, letting yourself catch a breath and trying to fix your appearance. You turned towards the mirror slowly, your body heavy and worn. You saw only yourself. No warm or sultry eyes. No shadowy figure. Just you. You let your eyelids flutter as you head off to sleep, sure to dream of the dark presence once again. And just before you do…you swear you see the shadow flash across the mirror. But maybe it was just your tiredness affecting your sight. 
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The second time you experienced the presence was another night sleeping at the opera house in order to assist Nancy with her duties in the morning, since her mother, Karen, had left her in charge of the duties this time around, scolding her about needing to be responsible. You were asleep, dreaming and tossing while imagining that dark presence looming over you, your lust creeping in. In the dream, the dark shadow was looming over you, kissing up and down you, as silent as possible. You watched as the shape kissed its way down, growling hungrily at your entrance. You couldn’t see much but felt, almost as if it were real, lapping at your sensitive clit. You woke dazed, lust pooling between your thighs as you tried to sit up, sure you were feeling something licking and sucking on the swollen bud between your thighs. A gloved hand clamped down on your eyes and prevented you from seeing who the culprit was, your heart racing. You smelled the familiar mix of cinnamon and orange peel, along with sharp notes of rum and ginger, a tonic you knew as familiar among the singers in the opera to keep their vocals sharp. You felt your thighs shake, and moans leaving your mouth despite your brain's conflicting thoughts. 
This is wrong. I don’t know this person. But…the pleasure…they are so skilled with their mouth…I’m so close.
You writhed, whimpering and attempting to escape the mouth to discover who was there, only to feel the other hand hold you tightly in place, a deep and fearful voice growling lowly. 
“Stop your infernal movement, little angel. I would like to worship this beautiful cunt to the best of my ability,” The masculine voice ground out in agitation, the words sending chills up your spine and desire to build to the breaking point. Worshiping you? Men in high society didn’t worship working women like you. You were lucky to even find a betrothal while most dancers were considered ‘low and loose’ women who needed to work in order to gain money. This man was odd and…so very skilled at making you unravel. 
You were drunk on the eroticism of it all. A stranger licking at you like a man starved of a month’s worth of meals, the inability to see his appearance, his demanding tone and forceful hand. You saw stars and felt your pleasure overcome you, your body shaking at your release that he seemed to slurp up, the noises so vulgar they would make a lady of the night blush. You lay there, eyes closed, catching your breath slowly. When your eyes finally fluttered open, you sat up, hoping to get to know the man behind your most recent confession in church, only to be met with silence, not a soul in the room. You felt your heart sink as you tried to fall back asleep, your mind swimming with thoughts of the mysterious voice and the warm, strong hands. It seemed the ghost of the opera might have been real after all. 
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Nancy and the other girls in the corps began to notice your distracted gaze, your prolonged nights at the opera, and your skittishness, trying to catch a glimpse of the shadowy figure when people claimed he zipped past. You felt a strange obsession, a need to follow the dark shadow and discover who was consuming your dreams. 
You heard him at night occasionally, humming or singing. Or at least you thought it was him. It was a low and chilling sound. Your body thrummed with excitement anytime you thought you saw a flash of him in the rafters or heard a stair creak. You began to notice little gifts waiting for you in the dressing room, in your favorite nooks and crannies in the opera. Red roses and small notes in the messy script, usually referring to you as Little Angel. Nancy was worried about you, trying to escort you home often and getting Steven to dote on you more.
But you were done. Corrupted. Filthy. And you wanted nothing more than to be in the Phantom’s embrace once more. You wanted him to explore you. Ruin you. Your mind was riddled with him day and night. 
You kept it hidden from everyone, but you often explored the ancient passageways now with the intention of finding him. Occasionally you left gifts. Your most used lipstick, a snippet of a poem, a book you had just read. You would come back to the spots to find the items gone, occasionally a rose left in their place. You felt giddy, like a schoolgirl. Your ghost…your Phantom… seemed to acknowledge you. 
If only you could catch him…
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It was a few months after weeks of giddy gift exchanges and running after shadows. The notes and roses stopped. The flashes of a dark figure ended. Perhaps it was a dream. Maybe you were just a fool who imagined or dreamed of the interactions. 
On a dark night, you were aimlessly wandering the halls, singing to yourself a song you remembered your father singing. You had abandoned all hope of your dear ghost coming to capture you. Free you from a loveless marriage. You were set to marry Steven next week. Abandon the opera. Become a proper lady in society. At least Steven would not be disappointed when you laid there and bled for him, giving him a child 9 months later. You sighed to yourself, twisting your engagement ring, displeased with the thing. You wandered the underground tunnels, the candlelight dim in the dark halls. You felt your heart pick up as you heard a soft yet low voice, singing aloud. Your skin erupted in goosebumps, and your heart was racing. 
“Phantom?,” You called out sheepishly. 
The singing stopped. A deep voice coming from a direction you couldn’t discern. 
“Little Angel. What is a lamb like you doing in a dangerous place like this?” called the voice, rough and cold. Was he upset with you? You were unsure. 
You felt a tug at your heart, looking around and trying to find him. “Please, Phantom. I have only one week more at the opera. I cannot bear to not feel your touch another second,” you whimpered out. 
“Ah, so you can crawl back to that insolent boy who does not deserve your glory? My heart cannot bear the rejection, Little Angel. Leave this monster be,” He growled out, still within the shadows. 
Your heart leaped in your throat as tears entered your eyes, feeling your knees wobble as you crumbled to the ground. “Please, Phantom. I cannot bear to be without you. I do not want Steven. Forgive me, please…,” You sobbed softly, your emotions in a tangled mess. 
You heard a sigh and felt yourself get grabbed from behind swiftly, a soft yelp about to leave your throat. That familiar gloved hand snuck over your eyes. 
“Alright, Little Angel. On one condition…You mustn’t, under any circumstances, remove my mask,” He warned, his tone stern. 
You nodded wordlessly, allowing him to pick you up, dropping your lit candle onto the damp floor. The light went out, but as he picked you up in his arms, you caught a brief glance of him. He was a tall and lean figure, his hair a long and curly mess, his face halfway covered by a mask. You could see his plush pink lips and long lashes, warm and enticing brown eyes. 
He was beautiful.
You were tempted to remove the mask, curious as to why such an enticing man would haunt the opera. You refrained, however, out of respect. He tied a loose piece of fabric around your eyes, shielding your vision. 
You were enthralled and scared. 
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You were laid down gently on a plush cushion and fabric, the cover softly removed from your eyes. You slowly opened your eyes in a dim and candlelit room, surrounded by aging theatrical props and the most plush velvet fabrics. You were on what appeared to be a bed, the dark figure standing before you. He wore a dark and long cloak, the hood down. His shirt underneath was a silky black shirt with a wide opening, displaying his chest. He wore dark pants and what seemed to be dress shoes. The items were all of high quality but it seemed they were at least a decade old. Upon looking up at his face, you saw he wore a white mask on half of it, his lips and half of his nose visible. His features were mostly soft, though he appeared worn from the years of seclusion and hiding. 
You reached out to touch his cheek, only to have him grip your wrists. His hands were shaking. His dark eyes were swirling with desire and sorrow. Was he shaken because he needed you so fervently? 
“You cannot touch me. I cannot bear it. If you were to touch me only to marry that…that damned fool later. My heart could not take it,” He growled out, his face twisted in sorrow and pain. 
You felt a tug at your heart, your hands aching to touch him but deciding to respect his wishes. 
“Alright.” 
He got up, running over to a pile of old props from past shows, grabbing at one, and walking over to you, grabbing at your wrists before tying them quickly to the frame of the bed. Your heart began to race as your body heated up, your skin erupting in goosebumps as you bit softly at your lips. Phantom groaned softly, looming over you, his warm brown eyes stirring desire in your belly. 
“Do not make such faces, Little Angel. You are so delicate, and I fear I will become without reason,” He groaned out, his eyes intense in their desire, his expression clear that it was hurtful to hold back. 
You could feel your back arch, his stiffening member brushing against you, causing you to whimper. “Please Phantom…Abandon reason…ravage me,” You mewled, writhing under the dark figure. 
His eyes became dark, his snarl deepening as he leaned in, his expression both terrifying and enthralling. “Be careful what you wish for, Little Angel. I am not too short of becoming a monster, devouring you.” 
You whimpered, desire pooling as your eyelashes fluttered, and your body leaned towards him. Two could play at that game. “Please…I’m frightened. R-release me, monster,” You whined, writhing under the Phantom’s dark gaze. A smirk fell upon his lips, dimples evident as the smirk broke into a villainous grin. 
“Oh, you should not have wandered into my lair, Little Angel. Now I must have you,” He growled lowly, taking his gloved hands and ripping open your corset before tearing at the chemise, the fabric pooling in shreds around you, your chest heaving in fear and excitement. 
Your body was bared save for the underpants that exposed your ever-wet entrance, your legs shutting in embarrassment. The Phantom growled, kissing at your lips with hunger and desperation, moans lost on his lips. He kissed you until you gasped for air before biting, nipping, and kissing his way down, focusing on your breasts. You pinched and sucked upon your nipples, heightening your pleasure and making you writhe more under him, whimpers echoing in the cold and dim room. He bit and marked you, his movements like that of a wild beast. 
“Ph-Phantom…Master… Devour me as you have before,” You whined out, meeting his wild brown eyes behind the mask as he looked up, snarling. 
“Beg. Beg for it,” He snarled, hands continuing their tortuous teasing on your breasts. 
“P-please… Master… Dev-devour me���I beg of y-you! I beg of you. I beg of you. I beg of you…,” You babbled, brain foggy with lust and his touch. 
He grinned devilishly, his white smile making your heart race. “As you wish, Little Angel.” 
He slowly made his way down, sure to kiss and mutter praises over you the entire time, letting you know how divine you were, leaving marks with sharp bites here and there. Finally, he reached your entrance, diving in as if it were his last supper. He flicked his tongue across your clit before sucking on it, alternating that and nibbling at your inner thighs, your body writhing like a woman possessed, your eyes rolling in pleasure. 
He truly was wicked, worshiping you beyond your wildest dreams, his words meeting your ears and deepening the carnality within you. You were gone. Lost to this bodily sin. 
“So divine. I do not deserve this beautiful cunt, these heavenly breasts, your godless moans… If this is the price I pay to become Lucifer’s lackey, I will happily pay the toll,” He babbled, fingers curling up into your entrance, his mouth still latching onto your clit. 
You felt your back arch and felt a ripple through your body. You shattered around his finger, your orgasm taking over your mind. You whimpered as he continued to touch you past your high, your nerves so sensitive you felt tears come to your eyes. He stopped short, growling lowly. 
“I’m going to condemn you, Little Angel. Fill you full of my cum. Mark you as mine and mine alone. You are my pet. My divine creature,” He snarled, his face twisted as you felt a shock of fear and lust overtake you. He could have you. You were his. 
“P-please Phantom…Pl-please,” You whimpered, lip trembling in longing as your body shook with terror. 
You suddenly felt a slow thrust into your entrance, the fullness causing a sharp pain, your head thrown back in a silent cry, eyes watering. The thrusting continued at a slow pace, the Phantom’s arms shaking as he appeared to hold back. You looked up at him, the desire growing sharper in you, your dull pain now adding to the pleasure, your legs slightly writhing. You fought against the ropes, whimpering. Phantom seemed to catch on as his brown eyes met yours, something in him snapping. He began snapping his hips at a ferocious pace, making you cry out as he continued to growl but also began to whimper and moan. 
“Such a perfect cunt. A vision. They don’t deserve you. So flawless…Cannot wait to fill your belly with my seed…Corrupt and condemn such a goddess…Ravaged by a monster…What would Steven think…?”
You moaned at the suggestion, thinking of how scandalous the situation would be. Your high was coming along a lot faster as the Phantom growled in your ear, hand at your throat while squeezing the sides and cutting off air. You felt your mind panic suddenly as you writhed but moaned louder, the lightheadedness causing immense pleasure. You were so close. 
“Oh, does my Little Angel enjoy that? Would you like to put on a show for the opera? Singing that beautiful song of pleasure?” He moaned out, his thrusts getting sloppier. 
You felt yourself climb higher and higher towards release, reaching it finally when Phantom growled in your ear making you grow with a child, making everyone know you were his. You saw stars behind your eyes, your heart bursting from your chest as you panted. The Phantom chased his own high, filling you up shortly after, making you moan softly. 
You attempted to catch your breath as the Phantom went to grab you a washcloth, wiping away at the spilling fluid. He released your wrists allowing you to rub at them. You flushed, your body limp and warm, worn out by the activity. You lay beside Phantom who held you to his chest, singing softly as you drifted off. 
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You woke up once in the middle of the night, Phantom asleep. You stared at his face, only noticing how much more peaceful he looked in his sleep. You bit your lip, wondering why a man would wear a mask, even during sexual activities. Curiosity always got the better of you. You reached out softly, peeling away the mask, being careful to make sure he didn’t stir. You gasped softly at the reveal. The man's half of his face seemed to have large scars as if someone had taken a chunk of flesh in a bite, perhaps an animal. His cheeks were riddled with them, and half of the tip of his nose also with a chunk missing. 
You frowned, cocking your head. Sure he wasn’t gorgeous on that side but why was he here. He just seemed a little scarred. You softly touched the scars, the Phantom twitching at the touches in his sleep. You stop for a moment but again, only to have the mysterious man's eyes flutter open and horror and realization cross his face and he shoots up and snarls at you. 
“You broke the one rule?” He growled, his eyes dark and anger-filled. 
“I didn’t mean-” 
You felt a quick hand tie you up again, the ropes had been on his side of the bed, You tugged against them, feeling panic come up your throat as he tilted your head up, eyes gleaming with villainy. 
“From now on Angel, you belong to the Phantom of the Hawkins Opera. Edward Munson. But you may call me Master,” He growled out, his eyes swimming with possession, desire, and fury, your mouth opening to let out protests and failing to make a sound. There was no escape. No way to save yourself. You were his. 
Be careful what you wish for. 
THE END?
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em1989ts · 1 month ago
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𝒔𝒍𝒂𝒔𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒂𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒏
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ghostface! steve harrington x reader x ghostface! eddie munson
word count: 2.7k
summary: after a long night of slasher tapes you'd picked up from family video, you get a couple eery phone calls, leading to a frightening break in from two masked figures.
warnings: strong language, knife, suggestive content, honestly i might just make a part two of this where it's just smut cause i totally set it up
author's note: i'm so back in my steve harrington era so here's the fic i've been wanting to write for like two years now
~
It was a windy Saturday night in the middle of October, 1986. You heard your house creak with every chilly gust that hit its walls. It was getting colder and colder in Hawkins. 
You were laying on your side on the couch, wearing an old pair of plaid pajama bottoms and a loose fitting t-shirt, with a throw blanket covering you from your shoulders to the tips of your toes. The light from the television set illuminated your face as you stared intently at the screen, rewatching Friday the 13th for the hundredth time. A stack of tapes you’d picked up today from Family Video adorned the coffee table in front of you as you reached the end of your horror marathon. 
It had been a few days since your parents had left for their business trip, leaving you as their free-of-charge housesitter. As they were heading out the door, they had given you a firm set of rules: 
Lock the doors and don’t leave the house at night. 
You didn’t exactly have the most exciting nightlife so that rule was easy to agree to. Lazy horror marathons were your favorite activity this time of year. You had already carved two jack o’lanterns and placed them on your front steps, one displaying a toothy grin whilst the other grimaced with a fangy frown. You had toasted the pumpkin seeds as a snack but those were gone halfway through A Nightmare on Elm Street which you had seen previously in the night. 
As you lay sideways on the cushion of the couch, your eyes drooped with exhaustion. You unraveled yourself from the blanket and sat up to turn your head to read the analog clock on your wall which let you know it was now one thirty in the morning. A dark blur quickly entered your vision as you looked out the window behind the television. The streetlights lit the quiet neighborhood as leaves blew down the road, nothing else in sight. Although you could’ve sworn you’d seen a coyote or something.
Deciding to call it a night, you stand up to shut the television off but you didn’t see the remote anywhere. Sticking your hand between the cushions, you felt around for the plastic device yet it wasn’t there. You picked up the bundled blanket and shook it around which caused the remote to fall to the floor and under the couch. Tipping your head back in annoyance, you signed and crouched down, getting on your knees and sticking your arm under the couch to fish for the remote. After a few seconds, your hand felt the warm remote and pulled your arm back and as you were still on your knees, you leaned against the couch and pressed the power button on the remote. As the screen faded to black, you stood back up, placed the remote down on the coffee table, folded the blanket neatly and placed it on the couch.
The living room was dark except for the warm lighting that peaked through from the connecting kitchen. You walked across the cold tiled floor with your warm wool socks to make yourself a cup of tea before heading up to bed. Placing a small kettle of water onto the stove, you turned around to reach for the cupboard handle as a sharp ringing gave you a fright. 
You jumped and turned around quickly, although you already knew the noise had come from the yellow telephone hanging from the wall. 
Who could be calling at this hour? 
You picked up the phone and immediately put it back down to stop the ringing. Whoever it was could wait until the morning. Maybe it was just Nancy asking about an assignment due this week, surely she could ask you in homeroom on Monday. 
Turning back around, you went over to the cupboard and pulled two bags of chamomile tea from a box then went over to the cabinet that held glassware as you grabbed a mug you made freshman year in art class. You picked it out specifically for its orange and red glaze, matching the autumn foliage. 
The mug in your hands almost went crashing to the floor as another ring from the telephone reverberated through the kitchen. You tightened your grip after the initial scare and placed the mug gently on the countertop as you went over to pick up the phone. 
Two calls in a row, this must be urgent. 
You weren’t exactly thrilled to have to converse with someone at this time of night but if this was an emergency then you’d have felt awful for ignoring it. You picked up the phone and leaned against the wall.
“Hello?” you asked into the speaker by your chin.
“Hello, sweetheart,” a low voice snickered into your ear. 
You furrowed your brows in confusion. What kind of joke was this? 
“Why are you calling so late?” You were too tired to be playing any games.
“Why are you answering so late?” The voice worried you. It didn’t even sound real, yet the lack of a serious tone made you feel like this phone call could have waited till morning. 
You could hear the kettle of boiling water start to whistle as you started to lose your patience. 
“Listen, I don’t know who you are or what you want but I really don’t care,” you said into the phone, hanging it up back onto the wall as you turned to the kettle to take it off the stove to pour it into your mug. 
As you ripped the tea packets open to begin steeping your chamomile, the phone rang once more. In your mind, the ringing almost sounded more aggressive than the last two times it rang. 
You dropped your tea bags into the mug as you stomped your way to the phone as you ripped it off the wall and held it by the side of your face.
“What the fuck do you-” you started angrily into the phone before you were abruptly cut off. 
“I’ll tell you exactly what we want, sweetheart. Once we get you.” 
“What?” You said into the receiver. Your shoulders slumped with fear as your heart rate quickened. That was not the response that you were expecting. 
You looked towards your front door. You had remembered to lock it right? No, of course you remembered. You double-checked it. Triple-checked it. 
Then why was it cracked open? 
And who was that figure visible through the fogged glass? 
“You might want to run,” The voice suggested. 
Abandoning your tea, you dropped the phone, letting it hit the wall and swing by its curly cord. 
You didn’t know where to run, you were frozen. How could they be calling you from your front door? Who was this person and what were they after? Were they going to hurt you?
As you quickly tried to come up with any plan for evacuation, you heard a creak coming from the door. You looked over to see the figure reach out a gloved hand and grasp the edge of the door, slowly opening it until it was wide enough for them to step in. 
You now saw them in full. A tall, black-cloaked figure wearing a white mask with drooping eyes and a long, open mouth stepped in and stood staring at you. Not making any advances, but not looking friendly either. 
That mask.
Shielding the identity of the intruder, the horrified ghastly expression perfectly reflected the way you felt as your heart sank into your stomach.
Your flight instinct finally kicked in as you skidded down the hallway trying to get away. Since the invader was blocking you from exiting through the front door, you could try to run out the back door, or possibly a window if you had no other choice. 
As you quickly turned the corner at the end of the hallway that led to your dining room which had a door to the back porch, the tall figure suddenly appeared in front of you as you crashed into their chest. The wool socks on your feet caused you to lose your balance and crash land onto the wooden floor in front of them. Your head ached as it smacked against the hard planks. As you regained vision and remembered your situation, you dizzily lifted yourself up enough to lean on your elbows as you looked up at the figure who was now standing menacingly above you. The hallway was dark except for the small nightlight which illuminated the horrific expression displayed on the mask which mocked your lower position.
Before you could scramble away towards the other end of the hallway, the harsh force of a boot stomping down on your hair caused a yelp to escape your lips. Your scalp was on fire from the pain as you looked up with teary eyes to see a duplicate of the masked figure. 
A glint of silver caught your eye as a blade was slowly brought into your line of sight. It made your heart sink further. A blade that was spotless and clean, which meant they either took great enough care to properly clean up after themselves or it had never been used, meaning it was just for show. 
The scuffed leather boot was lifted from your hair which released the sharp tension on your scalp, yet your head still throbbed with pain. Your vision was blurry and your heart continued to beat rapidly and unevenly, causing you to worry whether you could stay conscious to fight for your life. 
The figure with both hands free lifted you up off the ground, grabbing you by your upper arms, and standing you up on your feet. The neck of your tee shirt slipped off your shoulder as you tussled, revealing the skinny strap of your bralette across your shoulder. They turned your body forcefully to have you face their companion as they pressed their chest against you, pinning your left arm behind your back whilst wrapping a bicep around your neck tight enough to keep you in place. 
A gasp left your lips as their muscles closed you in. Your right hand was free which you used to try and pry their arm away from your throat enough to allow you to inhale without a struggle. The mask in front of you stared down at you, inching closer, almost mocking your pathetic position. When the arm would budge, you brought your hand out to rip that smug mask off, you couldn’t take that look any longer. A rough, gloved hand wrapped around your wrist to stop you from revealing their face but it was too late. Your fingers wrapped around the long chin and as their reflexes snatched your hand away, the mask went along with it. 
Steve. Fucking. Harrington. 
Was this a fucking joke? 
His brown eyes gazed into yours with a dark look yet he wore a smile that would forever taunt you. He leaned in closer till his face was inches from yours. 
“Gotcha.”
Your eyebrows scrunched in utter confusion before your expression turned to one of annoyance and anger. You couldn’t believe this. You tried thrashing around in the arms of the unknown accomplice before you remembered your legs were free and started kicking. His face turned impatient as he pulled his hood off, the unknown figure moved their bicep from around your neck and let your arm free from behind your back, only to hold both of your arms to your sides and wrap their own around you. 
You were seething, “What the fuck is wrong with you, Harrington? Do you seriously think this is funny?” 
“Oh definitely, but don’t give me all the credit,” he chuckled as he looked over your head and winked to whoever was holding you in place, giving the okay to unmask. 
An arm left from its place around your torso as it was lifted to remove the ghost mask, revealing Eddie Munson, who placed his grinning face on your shoulder. 
You were disgusted. Why did they even think it was okay to do this, even as a joke? You could have gotten seriously hurt, the cops could have gotten involved. If your parents found out they did this you’d never be allowed to be left home alone overnight ever again, even though you followed their rules perfectly. It was now two in the morning and you were two tired to deal with their antics any longer. 
You knew Steve and Eddie had been getting closer recently, courtesy of Dustin trying to get his two older male friends to bond, which clearly might now have been a good idea. They were both whispering with each other over the counter yesterday when you went to Family Video for your movie night. You had been friends with the both of them individually for a while now but you’d never thought they would pull this shit on you. 
You sighed and tilted your head back, pursing your lips in annoyance as you tried to pick the right words to gently parent them from the angry scoldings in your mind. 
“Okay, you got me,” you said in the most unamused tone you could muster, “Guys, this really isn’t funny. I don’t know what made you think it was okay to do this to me but you can both go home now.” 
You tried to escape Eddie’s hold but he only held on tighter, before nuzzling his face into your neck. Sure, Eddie was very comfortable around his friends, but this was new. 
“We can’t go now, sweetheart. The fun was just getting started,” he mumbled into your neck. 
“What?” you said quietly, confused at what he meant. 
Steve quickly brought the knife up to your face, causing you to flinch and lean your neck further into Eddie, prompting him to lightly bite. 
He traced the silver, curved blade across the silky skin along your chin as he peered down at you with a look that made you shrink. 
“We came here to scare you,” he said darkly, “hoping to get a little more than a laugh.” 
You looked up at him, cautiously aware of your slight movements as to not knick yourself with the edge of the blade. You’d never have thought either Steve or Eddie would think of you like that, yet you couldn’t say you’d never thought of them. 
Eddie removed his face from your neck as he matched Steve’s persuasive look. 
“Come on, sweetheart, you feeling something other than fear? Maybe a heartbeat somewhere else?” He joked with a dark laugh, his hands going lower as you scoffed. 
There was no way you were considering this. Breaking into your home, the frightening phone calls, the knife, the slasher costumes. It was just too ridiculous. 
You’d be lying if you said you weren’t intrigued, weren’t enjoying the attention. The knife on your face with just enough pressure, daring to draw blood, was a thrill you weren’t used to but you weren’t opposed to it either.
Biting your lip as you consulted with your pride, the boys watched you with anticipation and a growing need. 
You lightly laughed at yourself, entertaining the idea, as you gave them a look and nodded. Eddie smirked widely, placing his mask back on before he threw you over his shoulder, Steve following suit. 
They made their way back into the living room before Eddie roughly tossed your body down onto the couch. As you landed, you looked up at the two masked men who stood tall, staring down at you which was quite intimidating but you definitely weren’t as mad as you were five minutes ago. 
In fact, you were looking forward to continuing your slasher marathon, even if it was a little different than what you had in mind. 
~
author's note: i'm finishing this up right before i go to sleep so it's not editing so please ignore any grammar/spelling mistakes lol i tried to get this out as soon as possible, thank you for reading!! hope you enjoyed!! comments/notes/reblogs are soooo appreciated
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stray-cat-21 · 1 year ago
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The Pariah and the Freak
Chapter One: how it all began
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Summary: After a long time obsession Eddie Munson finds a way to make the queen of Hawkins High all his and only his.
Part summary: Eddie putting his plan into action and getting together with the girl of his many dreams.
Warning: This is a DARK fic involving forced pregnancy / Eddie baby trapping reader without her knowing. do not keep reading if that makes you uncomfortable or if you’re under 18! It’s definitely soft but still dark Eddie
Sweet, beautiful, caring, compassionate were all words that could be used to describe (Y/n) (y/l/n). She was head cheerleader as well as the somewhat queen of Hawkins high. However unlike most of the cheer squad and jocks she was wasn’t cruel to those not in her social group. Even the nerds, geeks, dorks, losers, and freaks adored her. Eddie Munson was no exception to her beauty and charm.
They definitely weren’t friends she didn’t really know anything about him. They’ve never hung out, and they haven’t exchanged more than ten words but she never insulted him or anyone else in Hellfire. In fact on multiple occasions she stopped one of the jocks from harassing the club. Those things alone lead to Eddie having quite the heavy crush on her.
Now just because she wasn’t cruel to him or his friends doesn’t mean they spoke often. The pair had three classes together and sat on opposite ends of the cafeteria. She just simply didn’t really take much notice of him when he wasn’t putting on some sort of show. For all six years of knowing her he had struggled with ways of getting her attention. If he couldn’t get her to fully notice him how could he get her to be his?
The idea came to Eddie one day while smoking a cigarette in the trailer park on a picnic table. Two of the park moms were sat out front one of their homes smoking and drinking boxed wine while loudly complaining about their lives and how they ended up there. The one with dyed red hair lets out a long exhausted sigh. “I should’ve never listened to him about not usin a condom Cathy, I could’ve been married to Phil Blake he’s a doctor now” she exhales with a puff of smoke. “He baby trapped ya Trisha that’s exactly what he did no good bastard” the other agrees.
Eddie sat up straight listening a little closer. He had heard rumors of women ‘baby trapping’ men but never the other way around. Could it be the answer to his prayers? The solution to his life’s struggle? Now he just had to figure out how to get the most popular girl in town to not only sleep with him but do it unsafely.
Thankfully that comes to him pretty easily too. He’s in his last period class not focusing on the assignment at hand instead listening to the two girls in front of him conversing. The class was doing busy work while the teacher got caught up on things. As long as things didn’t get too loud he allowed them to talk. The two cheerleaders were discussing the party of the week hosted courtesy of the basketball team.
“Jason says Josh’s parents are out of town all weekend”
“Lucky Josh”
“You’re coming right? I was hoping we could get ready together”
“Yes I desperately need to get out of my house especially if it involves drinking and dancing”
“There should be plenty of that knowing the guys. Do you wanna sleep over?”
“Sounds great Chrissy as long as your mom doesn’t make us those granola cookies or jog laps again”
The girls quietly erupt into laughter recalling a prior sleepover and just like that Eddie has a plan. All he has to do is score an invitation to this party and everything he’s ever wanted will be his. (Y/n) will be his and only his.
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The party is crowded with way too many drunk teenagers. The music is loud and shitty. This is not how Eddie Munson wants to spend a Friday night but for her he decides it’s worth it. For her and for his baby Eddie will suffer through this meathead’s party.
He makes his way through the living room pushing past his peers until he spots one of the hosts of the party Josh, aka number 20 of the basketball team. Josh could be the face of the dumb jock stereotype. He’s only cruel when he’s joining in with his peers. Basically the human equivalent of a dog who does whatever you say. Eddie waves a ringed hand holding up the paper bag he had brought.
“Munson fuck yeah man!” Josh laughs with a slur making his way over. In the bag is an assortment of ziplock bags filled with different drugs. Some of the pot is definitely weak since Eddie had to give Josh way too good of a deal to convince him to let him come to the party. Josh pulls out a wad of cash shoving it forward which Eddie accepts handing him the bag. “Good shit, stick around dude have a drink might make you loosen up or somethin” the drunk high schooler says wondering back to his friends.
Eddie rolls his eyes and wonders back into the main part of the party. It’s a sea of faces made up of cheerleaders, preps, partiers, and everything between. He can see a few party goers giving him dirty looks and mutterings of wondering why the freak is in their territory. When he finally spots (Y/n) she’s dancing with Chrissy. Both girls are clearly tipsy already their movements much sloppier than they normally were during their cheers.
They’re giggling and taking turns spinning each other even though it doesn’t match the music at all. Eddie can’t help but think he can’t wait to dance with her. Slow dancing in the kitchen the only thing between them her baby bump. Eddie can’t help but smile at the thought. Their dancing is interrupted by Jason coming up to borrow Chrissy which (y/n) allows despite her disappointment.
(Y/n) let’s out a breath looking around and their eyes meet. A small smile blossoms on her face as she casually walks over to him. “Eddie Munson at a party, well now I’ve seen everything” she teases with a kind smile. She isn’t making fun of him or being rude she’s genuinely surprised he’s here and he’d go as far to say she looks pleased. “Must be a sign of the impending apocalypse or something” he teases back.
She laughs face lighting up with amusement. “Did you come to protest our conformist ways?” She asks curiously. “No just to make googly eyes at Carver, he’s playing hard to get” Eddie jokes. (Y/n) laughs again and Eddie can’t help but think he’d talk forever if she kept making that sound. “I was just here to make a sale” Eddie shrugs.
“So you’re not staying?” She asks. Eddie can’t help but revel in the small bit of disappointment evident on her features. She wants him to stay, she wants him around. “Not really my scene” Eddie shrugs.
“Oh come on stick around you never come to these things” she begs placing a hand on his forearm. Eddie looks from her to the door as if he’s honestly thinking it over. “I guess one drink wouldn’t hurt” he sighs smiling. (Y/n) lights up smiling a little wider.
“Yay that’s great!” The way she cheers for Eddie in the way that’s normally reserved for the schools star athletes makes his heart swell. “Here I’ll get you a refill sweetheart while I get one” Eddie offers out his hand to take her cup. He doesn’t miss the way the nickname makes her a bit bashful as she hands him the empty cup. “Don’t go running off on me now Munson” she calls after him when he begins heading back to the kitchen.
Thankfully the table covered in an assortment of beverages is temporarily unoccupied since the bartender is . Eddie pours them both a drink before slipping out the small two ziplock bag containing only two pills. They were much harder to get than his other substances but thankfully there was a guy the next town over. Once (y/n)’s drink is mixed he returns to find her saving him a spot on a two person love seat.
The small chair doesn’t allow for too much space between them so his leg presses against her own. “Thank you” she grins when he passes her the red solo cup. “Anytime princess” Eddie responds. It was usually a nickname reserved for DnD or for making fun of spoiled rich popular girls but for her he’d make an exception. Again Eddie isn’t oblivious to the effect the nickname has on her.
“You’re quite charming you know that?”
“Am I?”
“Yeah I didn’t know you were so sweet, guess I always thought you were kinda…”
“Mean and scary?”
“I’m sorry”
“It’s okay I kinda thought you were mean and scary too”
“Really me scary?”
“Terrifying”
“Careful Munson I’ll get you with my pompoms”
“See what did I tell ya scary. You give Kruger and Voorhees a run for their money” 
“I guess you know my terrible secret, I’m really the evil cheerleader of doom”
“Oh of doom?”
“Yea of doom! I’ll slay you down all while wearing a cheer skirt”
By the end the two are laughing hysterically coming up with her evil villain origin story. He had no idea she’d be so easy to talk to let alone kind of a dork. Maybe she’s only so open because of the alcohol or maybe it’s just who she is he can’t quite figure that part out. However it doesn’t really matter so long as she keeps laughing and touching his arm like that.
“You’d make a great comic book villain sweetheart” Eddie says taking a sip from his drink. Her smile brightens and he watches the way she ducks her a head little as if trying to cover up such a beautiful sight. Eddie reaches his hand out gently tilting her chin so she’s looking up at him again. “Nuh uh if I have to stay at this party you can’t go hiding from me” he teases. The act clearly catches her off guard but she doesn’t move away or push his hand away.
Eddie almost thinks he could get away with kissing her but he doesn’t push his luck moving his hand away. “There you go being all sweet again” she muses. “Shh don’t say that too loud you’ll ruin my reputation” Eddie says in a mock whisper. “Oh and what makes me worthy of knowing the real Eddie Munson?” (Y/n) teases. “Well it must be reserved for only the prettiest girl in school” Eddie shrugs looking down at his cup.
“You think I’m pretty?” She asks. Eddie’s a little surprised by the question. (Y/n) isn’t fishing for compliments or trying to get him to spill his guts, she’s really asking if he’s telling the truth. “Beautiful” Eddie scoffs. The admission makes her bite her lip looking off again.
“You’re not like most guys you know. I don’t think I’ve ever been complimented so much”
“That’s a shame sweetheart.”
“Maybe it’s the age difference, you’re older, wiser than the guys on the team”
“And now I’m old?”
(Y/n) opens her mouth to say something else but is cut off by someone yelling. “What the hell are you doing here freak?” Jason spits. (Y/n) winces while Eddie just lets out a sigh. “Carver so lovely to see you” Eddie says with a mocking grin. One of Jason’s goons grab Eddie by the collar yanking him up from the chair.
Most of the room is looking on at the scene. (Y/n) jumps up from her spot. “Come on guys knock it off we’re just trying to enjoy the party” she says glaring at Jason. “She’s right Jason let’s just go” Chrissy pleads tugging on the sleeve of Jason’s jacket. Jason shrugs his girlfriend off stepping closer to Eddie despite being shorter and far less intimidating.
“Party’s invitation only freak, get lost before I make you” Jason threatens shoving him. Josh looks worried as he keeps his eyes on the ground waiting to be ratted out to his team mates. “I invited him Jason he’s my date” (y/n) snaps quickly grabbing Eddie’s hand. Jason and the rest of the guys look over at her shocked so do Eddie and Chrissy. “And why the hell would you do that?” The blonde asks.
“Jason dude what’s it matter let’s just go back to partying” Josh finally speaks up. “Yeah man who gives a shit he’s here?” Patrick agrees. Jason finally gives up his stare down storming away. Chrissy mouths an apology to her friend scurrying off after them. (Y/n) takes a deep breath looking back towards Eddie.
“You okay?” She asks worriedly. “Yeah sweetheart nothing I’m not used to. Besides this time I had the cheerleader of doom here to protect me” Eddie winks. (Y/n) breathes out a laugh shaking her head a little. She still hasn’t let go of his hand and Eddie can’t help but move his thumb against her skin.
“You might wanna be careful though going around saying you’re on a date with me wouldn’t want to tarnish your reputation” Eddie explains. (Y/n) shrugs smiling nonchalantly. “Not the worst rumor I’ve ever heard about myself” (y/n) laughs. Eddie nods understandably. “Gotta be a new high point for mine.”
The two talk for a while more about whatever crosses their minds. They get to know each other at least on a basic level, joke around, and tease each other. Hell she even convinces him to dance with her for a bit since it is a date after all. He’s having so much fun Eddie almost wants to consider changing his mind on the whole plan but but kidding by how (y/n) seems to get more tired by the minute he thinks it too late for that. She’s in his arms slightly swaying to the music when Eddie notices she’s leaning on him a lot more and slurring her words.
“You alright sweetheart?” Eddie asks tucking his chin down to look at her. (Y/n) nods her eyebrows furrowed and she closes her eyes for a second. “Um yeah I uh I think I need to sit down” she answers slowly. “Shit here sit back down, I’ll get Chrissy okay don’t move a muscle” Eddie orders helping her back into the chair. (Y/n) nods leaning back into the cushions.
Eddie speeds off back towards the kitchen. Thankfully Chrissy is without her guard dog talking to someone from student council who gives Eddie a dirty look. From what he could hear from the conversation the other student was concerned why the (Y/n) (y/l/n) was on a date with the freak show. “Sorry to interrupt but I think (y/n) needs you Chrissy she’s not lookin too good” Eddie says worriedly. Chrissy frowns immediately following Eddie without a word to their classmate.
(Y/n) was just barely staying awake eyes fluttering shut before snapping open again. “Hey hon it’s me you feeling alright?” She asks pressing a hand to her friends forehead. “I don’t know what happened, we were talking and she got really dizzy and tired” Eddie explains. “Maybe she’s just drunk I don’t know will you help me get her upstairs?” She frets looking up at Eddie desperately. Eddie quickly nods leaning down to gently pull (y/n) up hoisting her up bridal style.
“Come on sweetheart I’ve got ya” he breathes carefully upstairs following Chrissy. She leads the pair to an empty bedroom that was off limits. Eddie is gentle when he lays (y/n) down helping her fully into the bed. Chrissy is anxiously biting her thumb nail looking down at her best friend. (Y/n) is softly breathing but hasn’t moved a muscle or spoken since they started heading upstairs.
“She ever gotten drunk like this before?”
“Drunk sure but she’s never been like this before oh god do you think it’s alcohol poisoning? She’ll freak if she has to have her stomach pumped”
“I doubt it did she do anything but drink maybe smoke something?”
“No she couldn’t have I was with her till you got there all she had was two drinks I thought. Oh god Eddie do you think someone drugged her or something? Like one of those tapes they make us watch in school?”
“If so they’re about to learn how much of a freak I can be”
Eddie practically growls the sentence out low and angry as if someone had really hurt his girl. Chrissy looks at him stunned taken back by his concern. “Thank god you were here what if some creep had found her” the blonde frets. Eddie is about to respond but the door slams open making them both turn around. Jason enters the room looking pissed off.
The angry, tipsy athlete storms towards his girlfriend. “Chrissy what the hell are you doing with this freak” Jason spits never taking his eyes of Eddie. “Jason something’s wrong with (y/n) I think we need to take her to the hospital” Chrissy answers. “She’s a big girl she shouldn’t have gotten wasted if she couldn’t handle it” Jason demands. “Not her fault one of your pervert friends drugged her” Eddie says.
“What the hell did you just say?” Jason growls stepping towards Eddie. Chrissy pushes herself between the two as much as she can. “Jason stop it please (y/n) really needs help, he was just helping” Chrissy promises. “Helping, he’s probably the one who did it fucking freak” Jason accuses. Eddie narrows his eyes down at him.
“Eddie will you please grab (y/n) some water?” Chrissy pleads facing the metal head. “Sure thing Chrissy” Eddie nods making sure his shoulder bumps Jason on his way out of the room. Even just outside the door he can hear the couple fighting. As much as he hates it for Chrissy’s sake since she’s always been nice to him it’s a good sign for his plan.
When Eddie returns to the room Chrissy and Jason are long gone just as he expected. Eddie peaks around the empty hallway before shutting the door making sure it’s locked tight. His breathing is shaky and his body is trembling in excitement as he approaches the foot of the bed. This is it finally his shot.
Laid out across the bed peaceful and unmoving (Y/n) looks straight out of a fairy tale. His very own sleeping princess that can only be saved by his love. Her eyes are shut just slightly fluttering every so often. Painted red lips parted just slightly allowing her slow breaths to escape.
The mattress dips under his weight as Eddie kneels down onto the bed. He lowers himself down till he’s hovering just above her. His ring covered hand reaches up to move a stray hair from her face before sliding it down to her cheek. “So beautiful” he whispers. Slowly Eddie leans down till his lips are ghosting over her own.
His head is clouded with anticipation, anxiety, nervousness, and even a little guilt deep deep down. Swallowing back the conflicting emotions Eddie takes the plunge connecting their lips together. Just like he’d always daydreamed her lips are pillowy soft. They melt against his anxiety bitten lips like cotton candy.
When his tongue finds its way into her mouth Eddie sucks in a sharp breath through his nose. Cherry coke mixed with cheep vodka lingers on her tongue flooding Eddie’s tastebuds. It’s a flavor he will now cherish forever because it’s hers. Her gentle slow breaths hit his skin and his fans against her resting face.
When Eddie finally pulls himself away from her now glossy barely swollen lips he doesn’t go far. Instead his wet searing kisses move across her cheekbone, down to her chin and up her neck all the way to her ear. “I’m gonna love you so good sweetheart I promise. Gonna make you and our baby so god damn happy” he breathes.
He lifts away from her face looking over her body. So badly does Eddie want to take his time. He wants to cherish every square inch of her skin, slowly pull her clothes off and tell her why he loves every part of her body, enter slowly with his fingers warming her up and stretching her out, eating her out till she begs him to just stuff her full, making love to her the way she deserves. Only he’s already painfully hard, this is his first time, and he has to hurry. Still though it would be rude not to warm her up.
His hands move down to her skirt and Eddie pushes it up to her waist. (Y/n) chose some see through black panties for the evening that Eddie can tell are already wet. A moan escapes his throat knowing he’s turning her on even in her unconscious state. He’s quick but careful as he pulls them off picketing them in his back pocket for later. There’s not much light in the room just the soft moonlight coming in from the window revealing her wet lips to him.
Eddie reaches up two ringed fingers spreading her pussy open to him. “Fuck you’ve even got a pretty pussy baby can’t wait to see it drooling my cum” Eddie groans. He moves a thumb to her clit slowly circling it. (Y/n)’s body makes a small movement and in her sleep she lets a a soft moan like sound. Eddie continues the motion in varying speeds and pressures seeing which ones make her the most wet.
“That’s it pretty girl need you nice and wet gonna make you cum then fuck you full alright” Eddie breathes moving his other hand to push two fingers into her. She’s tight around even his fingers clenching around them. Once he’s got the rhythm and technique down it’s not hard to make her come undone.
“Fuck” Eddie groans pulling his now soaking wet fingers out of her. He’s quick to shove them into his mouth moaning aloud at the taste. Once their licked clean he moves his hands to his belt fumbling with the buckle till it’s undone and he can properly shove his jeans down his legs. His cock springs free slapping his stomach head red and dripping with precum. Eddie gives it a few strokes looking over her again.
Even just the feeling of the head of his cock lining up with her entrance has Eddie ready to lose it but he holds back. With a slow but hard thrust he’s bottomed out completely balls deep buried in her pussy. “Fucking christ” he moans voice high pitched with pleasure. He thought she was right wrapped around his fingers but this? This is next level.
Another rock of his hips rolls his cock sweetly into her lurching her body against the bed. Lifting her legs up Eddie carefully placing them over his shoulders. Each time his cock comes out even more wet in her own pleasure. She’s completely unaware she’s soaking the ‘freaks’ cock so much.
The thrusts get harder shaking the bed while Eddie fucks into her sleeping form. He has to bite hard into his lip to keep his moans down. “Holy shit sweetheart this pussy is made for my fucking cock, gonna ruin you for any of those assholes” Eddie whispers. His hand moves up to her blouse bunching it up around her neck. Now each time he thrusts into her he can watch her tits bounce.
“When we do this next time gonna make you really enjoy it sweetheart I swear. You’ll be awake and screaming my name.”
“Maybe I’ll bend you over in your cheer skirt and fuck you behind the bleachers let you go back to practice stuffed full of the freak’s cum.”
“Oh shit so fucking tight sweetheart taking me so well”
“Fuck fuck fuck” Eddie groans louder with each obscenity. His cum floods her walls. Once his balls have completely emptied into her pussy he slowly pulls out watching some of his cum ooze from her abused cunt. His fingers are quick to catch it and push it right back in. Eddie takes a minute to catch his breath while getting his clothes fixed.
Big brown eyes are transfixed at her used up pussy. He wonders if once he gets her back to the trailer if she’ll still be asleep enough to go another round. Eddie does his best to get her cleaned up straightening up her clothes before throwing one of her arms over his shoulder. Part of him hates how easy it is to get her unconscious body out of the party but for now he’s slightly grateful for everyone’s lack of care for anyone but themselves.
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(Y/n) groans opening her eyes sunlight filling most of her vision. Her head is throbbing, she feels nauseous, and she knows something doesn’t feel right. She sits up opening her eyes again. Her surroundings are unfamiliar, this isn’t her room or Chrissy’s or any of the other cheerleaders. Looking down she also sees the clothes on her body aren’t her own.
Panic fills her chest and for a moment she worries the vomit might spill from her throat. (Y/n) pushes the blanket away from her legs looking at the oversized shirt with the words Iron Maiden scribbled in a peeling font across the fabric along with a pair of plaid pajama pants. Her eyes dart up scanning her surroundings. Thankfully they land on at least something, or someone familiar. Eddie Munson slumped in a small white chair using his jacket as a blanket.
Small snores leave his opened mouth and his hair is sticking all over the place. This was Eddie Munson’s room. It makes sense given the posters on the walls, the music equipment and the ash tray. Even if things are still a blur at least she knows where she is.
As if sensing her presence Eddie begins to wake up. The snoring stops and his brown eyes slowly blink open. With a deep yawn his eyes finally meet hers and it seems to wake him up instantly. “Shit you’re awake, how are you feeling?” He questioned jumping up from his chair. His jacket falls to the floor with a loud thud as Eddie makes his way over to the bed side.
“Um not great” she answers truthfully. Eddie winces nodding his head. “I’ll uh grab you some water and then we can talk alright?” He suggests. (Y/n) nods watching him hurry out of the room. When he returns Eddie not only has a glass of water but some Tylenol.
“Thanks Eddie” (y/n) sighs gratefully taking a large sip. “Better?” He asks voice still quiet and careful. (Y/n) hums setting the half empty cup back down. “Can I sit?” Eddie asks gesturing towards his own bed. (Y/n) nods pulling her legs towards her body allowing him room in front of her.
“So what do you remember?”
“Not much I remember meeting up with you at the party, arguing with Jason and then it gets fuzzy.”
“After we talked to Jason we were sitting in the living room and you started getting dizzy and slurring your words. I got Chrissy and we helped you upstairs. Jason found us and started arguing with Chrissy yelling at me you know his normal shit.”
“I do kinda remember yelling.”
“She begged me to just go get you some water and when I got back they were both gone and I found you alone in the room.”
“So you brought me to your home?”
“I swear I looked for Chrissy again sweetheart or at least someone who could tell me where you live but I couldn’t find her and no one would trust me with your address.”
“And my clothes?”
“Well you kinda threw up and some got on your shirt. And since you were in a skirt I just pulled the pajama pants up I swear I didn’t look at anything!”
“It’s okay I believe you”
“I just got you here and then realized that might look really bad when you woke up but fuck I couldn’t leave you there”
He looks genuinely worried that she might not believe him or that he’s worried that she’s accusing him of something. Eddie Munson school ‘freak’ slept on a far too small chair in order to make her comfortable in his bed. She had gotten too drunk at a party and passed out and he spent his entire night taking care of her. (Y/n) placed her hand over his giving it a gentle squeeze. “Thank you Eddie” she says softly with a small smile.
“There is more” he says quietly. (Y/n) just looks at him to continue. Eddie takes a deep breath running his hand through his hair. “When I found you your um your clothes were messed up like your skirt was crooked, your shirt was mostly pushed up, and your uh- your urm panties were gone” Eddie explains clearing his throat. “Oh god” (y/n) whispers.
The nauseous feeling returns all too quickly and (y/n) physically pales. “I’m gonna be sick” she mumbles. Eddie is quick to grab the small metal waste basket handing it to her. Not more than a minute later she’s puking up the water since it was the only thing in her stomach. She expects Eddie to turn around but instead he sits at her side pulling her hair out of the way with one hand and stroking her back with the other.
When she’s done he pulls the basket away offering her the water again. Tears prick in her eyes and blur her vision she can’t even make out the glass. Eddie scrambles to set the glass down wrapping his arms around her. She isn’t exactly sobbing but tears are streaking down her cheeks breathing broken and coming in harsh inhales. Eddie hold her tightly to his chest soothing her to the best of his ability.
“Need you to breathe for me sweetheart can you do that? Follow me okay just take a deep breath” he instructs. Eddie shows her by breathing like that himself his chest rising and falling against her. It takes a couple minutes but she starts to mimic his movements. He’s able to calm her down finally.
“I’m okay I’m okay” she sniffles wiping her face. It’s not true she’s definitely still freaked out but she manages to hold back the tears for now. “I looked but uh there was no one close so I settled with getting you out of there but if you want me to go with you to the cops or anything just say the word. Whatever you need from me I’m here” Eddie explains. (Y/n) nods quietly knowing that even if they both went to the cops nothing could be done but it was nice he would be there for whatever came next.
“Are you um hungry?” Eddie asks changing the subject. “Yeah actually starving” (y/n) admits recalling the fact that she barely had five chips and a bunch of alcohol for dinner the night prior. “Let’s get you some food sweetheart” Eddie grins helping her out of his bed. Even through the haziness of the second part of the evening she remembers having a lot of fun with Eddie before the fact. (Y/n) recalls how sweet and charming he had been with her.
“We do have to be kinda quiet my uncle is asleep in the living room”
“You live with your uncle?”
“Yeah he took me in when I was in eighth grade. But he works the graveyard shift”
She quietly follows Eddie to the kitchen leaning against one of the counters while he raids the fridge. “So we don’t have a lot and I’m uh not the most experienced chef but I can make some killer scrambled eggs and toast” Eddie says peaking at her over the fridge door. “Sounds great Eddie” (y/n) laughs. “Perfect my kinda girl” Eddie says grabbing the egg carton and milk. (Y/n) watches him while he collects the supplies with a thoughtful look on his face.
“You know what I do remember last night?”
“What’s that?”
“Having a really good time with you”
“It was a lot of fun princess”
Before the conversation can continue Eddie accidentally knocked over a pan causing it to clatter. “Shit” he mumbled scrambling to pick it up. There’s a groan from the living room and not two minutes later a tired looking older man shuffles into the kitchen. “Fuck I’m sorry Wayne” Eddie frowns. “It’s alright son nice to see you eating somethin before noon” Wayne says with a yawn.
“I’ll get coffee started” Eddie says heading to the pot. Wayne catches notice of the girl standing in the kitchen. He eyes his nephew for a moment before looking back to (Y/n). “You plannin on introducing me to your friend here” Wayne teases. “Oh uh Wayne this is (Y/n), (y/n) this is my uncle Wayne” Eddie says.
Wayne’s eyes widen and he smirks. “Oh this is (Y/n), the (Y/n) I’ve been told so much about?” He asks. (Y/n) looks towards Eddie with a teasing smile. Eddie’s face reddened and he sent his uncle a look. “Wayne man come on” he groaned focusing back on the coffee.
(Y/n) laughed offering out her hand to Wayne. “Nice to meet you Wayne, I haven’t heard much but it’s all been great” she smiles. “You too darlin” he chuckled shaking his head. Wayne grabbed his coffee before excusing himself to the bathroom. “That was humiliating” Eddie sighs going back to his cooking.
“So you talk about me to your uncle?” (Y/n) asks curiously. “I’ve probably mentioned you once or twice” Eddie shrugs. (Y/n) suppresses a laugh offering a kind hand on his shoulder. “Small school not many new faces and names right?” She offers him a way out of his torment. “Right yeah exactly” Eddie smirks.
Eddie thinks he could used to this, cooking her breakfast while she’s dressed in his clothes. Laughing with Wayne, drinking coffee, laughing over burnt toast, he wants the whole nine yards. Now he just needs to hope his plan worked. Little does he know she’s thinking something pretty similar. (Y/n) can’t remember the last time she’s had a better time then the last day she’s spent with Eddie.
(Y/n) spends breakfast getting to know both Munson men. She hears stories of little Eddie, learns about Corroded Coffin, and about why his uncle has so many coffee cups. It’s a nice way to spend a Sunday morning. Even though it’s small the trailer feels like a real home, somewhere happy memories are made. After the fact Wayne begins to clean up while Eddie changes and (y/n) decides to help.
“I promise darlin it’s not a problem I may look old but I can handle it”
“No please really I’d like to help, earn my keep you know”
Wayne shakes his head with a small smile. Once upon a time Eddie had used that very phrase over and over again. “Well alright I’d like the company anyway” Wayne shrugs. The two are quiet grabbing up the dishes they had used.
“You know, Mr. Munson”
“Wayne is just fine”
“Wayne, Eddie is a really good guy you should be proud of him”
“Oh really now?”
“Yeah, I mean obviously you already knew that but knowing Eddie even just a little I imagine that’s not something either of you hear a lot”
“No I reckon it’s not”
“I just don’t know many guys that would have done what he did for me last night”
Wayne doesn’t ask what happened but he does put a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “Well thank you for sayin so darlin” he says quietly. (Y/n) nods giving him a kind smile. The two go back to cleaning up while Wayne tells her another funny story from when Eddie was younger.
A little while later Eddie and (y/n) are sat in the front seat of Eddie’s van. An Iron Maiden tape plays quietly on the radio when the van pulls into her parent’s driveway. It was definitely the slowest Eddie has ever driven in his entire life, hell he thinks he might have broken a law by going so slow. But he was in no rush to get her home.
“So can I walk you to the door or do we need to sneak you in a window?” Eddie muses. (Y/n) laughs shaking her head. “You can walk me to the door if you’d like” she answers. Eddie grins exiting the van with her. The two make the short trip to the door in silence until she’s stood in front of him.
“Well here you are princess” Eddie says gesturing to her house. Not wanting him to leave just yet (y/n) doesn’t turn to leave or enter her house. “Thank you again Eddie, for everything” she says. “It was fun, I’m sorry again about the uh circumstances” Eddie shrugs. (Y/n) nods looking away from him.
Eddie’s fingers fidget at his sides wanting to tilt her chin up and kiss her. Treat this like he was just a normal guy bringing her home from a great date and giving her a goodbye kiss. Only that’s not what this is yet. In her own mind (y/n) is desperate to come up with something else to say. She just wants five more minutes with him.
Suddenly she lights up gently grabbing Eddie’s forearm which startled him just a little. “Your number um can I have your phone number?” She blurts. The second the question leaves her mouth she’s humiliated. (Y/n) was used to being the one being begged for her number and it was usually at the end of a date. “How about a trade?” Eddie grins.
(Y/n) nods with a smile feeling relieved. Eddie jogs back towards his van fumbling around in the front seat for a couple minutes. “Goch ya” he exclaims exiting the vehicle marker in hand. Eddie is triumphant as he hands her the black marker. Uncapping it (y/n) gently scrawls her name against the back of his palm.
Watching her write down each number Eddie feels more and more joyful. Forget the bats and the puppet master, screw the spider or his wyvern. The ink now covering his hand is by far his new favorite. The black inky numbers are made even better when she finishes it with a small heart. For just a brief moment he considers buying a bunch of gloves so he could get away with tattooing it for real.
“There you go” she breathes reaching to hand him back the sharpie. “Looks great sweetheart hurt a lot less than my other ones” he teases capturing his hand in his own. (Y/n) has to look down again staring at the pavement beneath their shoes while he writes down his own digits. She wonders if he’s consciously making the decision to run his thumb against her fingers or not. Instead of a heart Eddie adds a tiny devil head for his own little touch.
When he’s done Eddie uses his teeth to recap the marker while not letting go of her hand. He admires his work for a second before bringing her hand to his lips gently kissing her knuckles. “All done” he says quietly as he lowers their hands. “What do you think do I look metal?” She jokes. “Oh so metal” Eddie teases back.
“I uh guess I should go”
“Yeah me too”
“Thank you again Eddie”
“Don’t mention it”
“I’ll bring your clothes on Monday”
“Sure, yeah sure”
Eddie’s a little surprised when she stands up straight enough to kiss him right on the cheekbone. His eyes go wide, cheeks redden and he’s definitely smiling like an idiot. “I’ll see you Monday Eds” (y/n) breathes before hurrying inside. Eddie’s ringed fingers reach up grazing over the spot she had just kissed. The nickname mixed with the kiss swarm his head and make up for the money he lose out on for the pot well worth it.
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The following Monday Eddie is a little shocked to see (Y/n) waiting for him at his locker. The minute she spots him approaching (y/n) waves with a bright smile. “Well shit if I got welcomed like this every day I just might show up on time” he teases. “Maybe there’s hope for your education yet Munson” she laughs. (Y/n) surprises Eddie again by stopping to give him a hug.
“What’s this for sweetheart?” He questions softly while still holding her close. “I don’t know just feel like I should thank you” she sighs resting her head against his shoulder. “You’ve done that already a few times now, besides it’s not necessary” he promises her as they separate. (Y/n) nods but still looks unsure. Before either can say anything else there’s a yell of her name and Chrissy is rushing over.
The blonde pulls her best friend into a tight hug. “Oh gosh you’re okay! I’m so sorry I abandoned you!” Chrissy frets her eyes glossy. “Chrissy it’s okay I’m alright” (y/n) assures her. “I was so worried about you but Jason got so mad and made us leave and wouldn’t take no as an answer” Chrissy said with a sniffle.
“I’m okay I promise, Eddie made sure I was taken care of” (y/n) explained looking over at him. Chrissy pulled away from (y/n) quickly hugging Eddie. The metal head is taken back too shocked to react to the fact that he got hugged by the two most popular girls in school. “Thank you thank you so much for looking after her” Chrissy rambles breathlessly. “Uh no problem Chrissy” Eddie shrugs.
By lunch time Eddie and (Y/n) have hung out most of the day. Walking together between classes and only separating to sit in their assigned seats, she’d give him a hug before the classes they didn’t have together, and were even partners for a project in second period. Not having fourth period together Eddie is sat at his usual table when (y/n) arrives to the cafeteria making their way over to the Hellfire Club table. The guys take notice of her approaching before Eddie does.
“Holy shit is (Y/n) (y/l/n) coming over to our table?” Gareth Gawks. “Yeah haven’t you heard her and Eddie are real close lately” Jeff teases nudging Eddie’s arm. “Lucas said the whole basket ball team can’t stop taking about it” Mike adds while Dustin is amazed at what’s happening. “Be nice fuckers, and Gareth move over” Eddie growls under his breath. Gareth huffs out an annoyed breath and everyone groans and complains but moves down.
Eddie puts on a bright charming smile as (y/n) steps up to the table. “Hey Eddie, I was wondering if you’d mind if I sat here with you guys?” (Y/n) asks. “Course we don’t mind do we guys?” Eddie asks looking to the others. The others shake their heads still looking shocked or fearful of their club’s leader. “Thanks guys I appreciate it” she smiles graciously taking a seat next to Eddie.
“No problem sweetheart glad to have you join us” he grins. There’s a heavy awkward silence across the table while the group share surprised confused looks. “Is all that cheer stuff hard? It looks really complicated” Dustin finally speaks up just curious and friendly as he always was. The other guys stare over at him in disbelief.
“Oh not really anymore, it’s a lot more physically straining then people think though” (y/n) answers. Eddie sends Dustin an approving smile and nod. “But I think that Dungeons and Dragons you guys play looks crazy hard with all the math and stuff, seriously I respect it” (y/n) continues. The group quickly falls into comfortable easy conversation about cheer and DnD and anything that comes up. Laughter, and joy fills the table, Dustin even snorts some milk from his nose.
At the end of the day Eddie is heading out to his van when he hears (y/n) calling out to him. “Hey sweetheart I was hoping I’d see you before I left” Eddie greets with a smile. “Hey Eds I uh have your clothes” she says offering out the neatly folded bundle of clothes. Eddie accepts the garments and his fingers graze hers. “Oh sweet, the shirt is actually one of my favorites to sleep in” he explains.
The revelation isn’t lost on her that he allowed her to sleep in his favorite pajama shirt and she can’t help but smile a little. “Hey look I’m sorry if I was like all over you today I swear. I didn’t even realize I was until someone pointed it out last period” she admits a look of guilt blossoming on her features. “You didn’t annoy me sweetheart. We might’ve started a few new rumors but what else is new around here” he jokes back.
“That’s probably true, I don’t know I just-” (y/n) trails off with a sigh looking down at their feet. Eddie frowns tilting her chin up with his hand. “Hey it’s alright you can talk to me, I promise. I’m all ears here” he assures her. (Y/n) looked away unable to look him in the eye.
“Ever since what happened at the party I don’t feel safe around the guys on the team. Like I don’t even know who did it or if they were all involved. I just got to school and I didn’t feel safe with my normal crowd and I remembered how safe you made me feel during the weekend so I just kind of clung to you all day without trying to” she rambles nearly out of breath by the end. Eddie’s face softens as he pulls her into a tight hug.
“You’ve got nothin to worry about alright? I’ll take care of you” he whispers kissing the top of her head. Eddie can feel the way she relaxes letting out a breath and relaxing into his touch. “Thanks Eds” she sighs tightening her hold on him. “Anytime sweetheart anytime” he whispers.
She’s smiling a little when they separate. “So how do you usually get home” he asks despite knowing the answer. “Oh uh usually I ride with Jason and Chrissy but I think I’m gonna walk today” she shrugs. “Nonsense, follow me princess your chariot awaits” Eddie grins offering out his arm. (Y/n) now with a much bigger smile happily accepts following him into the parking lot.
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It wasn’t until 6 and half weeks later that Eddie has confirmation that his plan was successful. They were in the middle of first period doing another partner project when all of a sudden (y/n) stopped an explanation short taking off out of the classroom. Both worry and hope fill Eddie’s chest. Somehow he manages to contain himself for about five minutes before getting permission to leave for the bathroom so he can check on her.
As Eddie steps into the girls bathroom he hears the toilet flush followed by broken sobs. He doesn’t say anything as he makes his way over to the stall but he’s sure the chain attached to his pants alerted her of his presence since it sounds like she’s trying to conceal her cries.“Sweetheart it’s me are you alright?” He asks softly tapping against the door. “E-Eddie?” She calls with her voice cracking. “Yeah you rushed out of class pretty quickly so I came to check on you, can I come in?” He asks.
She didn’t answer but Eddie hears the door unlock so he lightly pushed it open. (Y/n) was sat with her knees against the cracking tile floor. Cheer skirt crumpled, hair disheveled, eyes red and puffy, tears streaking down her cheeks. “Oh Eddie my life is over it’s ruined” she chokes out. Eddie sits down next to her on the floor stretching his legs out ahead of him.
“Why do you say that?” He asks voice soft and gentle. Her lip trembles and she has to look away from his gaze. “Because it is, everything is ruined! Everything I’ve worked for is ruined! Cheerleading, school, my friends, everything!” She shouts.
The sobs start fresh again, her eyes squeeze shut in a poor attempt of keeping the tears locked away. (Y/n)’s shoulders shakes and she can hardly breathe between her cries. “C’mere sweetheart” he offers pulling her into his lap carefully. He allows her to do most of the moving and she does leaning into his touch. She turns her head to fall in between his shoulder and neck.
Eddie holds her close, his right hand rests against her back while the other caresses the back of her head. (Y/n)’s hand clutches into his shirt balling the white fabric up in her first. He doesn’t mind the wrinkling shirt or the tears falling onto his skin. “It’s okay let it out I’ve goch ya” he whispers.
Once she’s calmed down her breathing steady and the tears have temporarily stopped she pulls away from the safety of his shoulder. Eddie’s left hand moves from her head to her face and he uses his knuckle to wipe away her tears. “What’s goin on pretty girl?” He asks pushing back a stray hair stuck to her face. “I’m pregnant” she answers almost in a whisper. Thankfully Eddie manages to to bite back a triumphant smile, for once in his usually miserable existence things are working out for him.
“Oh shit that’s big” he breathes. “What am I gonna do Eds” she asks with a sniffle. “Do you uh do you wanna keep it?” He answers her question with another question. ‘Please say yes, please say yes, please please please say yes’ he begs in his head. He’s worked too hard for this.
She swallows thickly nodding her head. “I do yeah I know that’s crazy and stupid-” she starts to answer. “Hey you are not stupid this is a really tough decision but it’s your decision” he answers confidently. She smiles, it’s weak and her eyes are still shiny with tears but it’s there.
“Who’s the father if you don’t mind me asking?” He asks. She sniffles and another tear spills from her eyes. “I don’t know.” The answer is quiet and shameful embarrassed even. “What do you mean?” He continues eyebrows furrowed “Remember how you found me at the party?”
“Are you saying you think someone…?” His sentence trails off like he’s unable to say the word even though he knows the answer. She nods and sobs again. Eddie pulls her back to his chest hushing her and rubbing her arm in comfort. “Fuck I’m so sorry sweetheart, I don’t even know what to say but I’m sorry” he says.
“It’s not your fault” she mumbles pulling away from his chest. “Maybe if I had gotten there sooner this wouldn’t have happened” Eddie frowns guiltily. (Y/n) shakes her head quickly grabbing his hand.“Don’t do that Eddie it’s not your fault. You did so much for me that night and it’s not even your responsibility to take care of me” she assures him.
“I like taking care of you whether it’s my responsibility or not” Eddie promised her. There’s a beat of silence between them and he wishes he could get a photo of the way she’s looking at him right now.
“I don’t know what to do. How am even supposed to tell people?”
“You could tell them the truth”
“No one would believe and I can’t prove anything I don’t even know who did it”
She’s looking away from him staring at her hands in her lap. This is Eddie’s chance he has to do this right otherwise it was all for nothing. “Okay well what if you tell people it’s mine?” He asks. (Y/n)’s head snaps up and her eyes are wider than he’s ever seen them. “Excuse me?” She gawks.
“Well people are already gossiping about us hanging out recently so we’ll just pretend it’s mine, we got drunk at the party and you ended up pregnant” he shrugs like it’s the obvious solution. Like he just added two and two and got five and she was the crazy one for not getting the same. “Eddie that’s insane it would completely derail your life” she argues. Eddie let’s out a snort at her comment. “Sweetheart I’m a super senior who lives in a trailer with his uncle and plays DND and guitar in his free time you’re not derailing anything.”
She seems to search his face for any clue he’s lying or joking. “Why on earth would you do something like that?” She asks genuinely. Eddie smiles at her charming, sweet, loving, innocent.“I uh I care about you (y/n). I’m serious about this but I understand if you don’t want people thinking it’s the freak’s baby either.”
Her hand comes up to cup his face delicately. From the look she’s giving him Eddie knows he’s got her hook line and sinker. “Eddie honey I don’t care if people think it’s yours but won’t you? I mean you have enough issues with people here do you really want to be associated with this too?” She’s practically acting like he’s sacrificing himself for her.
“Y’know I don’t think people thinking I not only slept with the most beautiful girl in town, but got her pregnant would be the worst thing for my reputation” Eddie teases. This earns a small wet laugh from (y/n). “I can’t believe you would do that for me Eds” (y/n) says softly. “I told you I care about you I want to do this, let me do this for you” he whispers. Their faces are mere inches apart he can feel her breath against his lips.
Now or never Eddie takes the risk leaning forward. She doesn’t stop him so he pressed his lips against her own. By book definition it’s probably not technically a perfect kiss. He can taste the salty tears on her lips and they’re sitting on a dirty bathroom floor. But the smile on her face when they pull apart makes it all worth it.
“I’m all in here sweetheart I don’t just mean some guy for you to point at when people ask who knocked you up. Diaper changing, late feedings, baths, all that dad shit. We’ll be a family alright? Together you, me, and this baby we’ll be in this together. This is what I want, you are what I want both of you” Eddie insists.
“You’re my hero you know that right?” She gushes smiling sweetly. “Anything for you princess” he smiles. She’s the one who connects their lips this time hurriedly kissing him. “Now let’s get you off the floor yeah? Can’t have my girl and my baby sitting on the dirty ground can we” he teases.
Eddie lifts her up allowing them both to stand and helps her straighten her cheer skirt. He grabs her bag from the floor tossing it over his shoulder. “Wanna ditch last period? I don’t think I can handle another class today” (y/n) asks. “Now you’re speakin my language, how’s a date to Benny’s sound?” Eddie suggests.
“Sounds amazing I love their milkshakes!” (Y/n) exclaims excitedly. Of course he already knew that along with which one’s her favorite. Eddie grins a content Cheshire grin offering his arm out for to hold onto as they make their way out of the school.
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2jihiir0 · 7 months ago
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“Make it quick… baby’s sleeping..”
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🚬🥃🖤⛓️
Older scruffier trailer trash Eddie that takes care of younger Steve while running some illegal businesses. I saw the new Hoard trailer and this sort of happened ?? My brain has been melting ever since.
Anyways enjoy loves~
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thyme-in-a-bubble · 3 months ago
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virgin sacrifice
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a/n: you guys? hail satan.
summary: you didn’t think in your wildest dreams that Captain and Tennille’s best hits would be blasting over the camp’s speakers while you were running for your life from two nut job serial killers, ones who had already slain what looked like most of the other campers.
warnings: dark!steve harrington x reader x dark!eddie munson, dark content, noncon/dubcon, smut, summer camp au (they are all camp counsellors), slasher au, virgin!reader, very innocent!reader, final girl!reader, established relationship, violence, murder, weapons, blood, devil worship, predator/prey, bondage, knife kink, dirty talk, pussy inspection, oral, fingering, anal
word count: 1389
∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽
masterlist |��join my taglist
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It was the summer of 1986, right before you were supposed to go off to college and start your real life. It was also the summer when you worked as a counsellor at Camp Nebula, the very summer you fell in love for the first time. The summer when the most popular guy for some reason took notice of you and started calling you his girl. 
Now, he was a tad bit more experienced than you and wasn’t shy to show you in ways that you always snuffed out before they could grow into anything uncouth. That’s not how you’d been raised, to lose your virginity in a summer camp’s tool shed, however gobsmacked he made you feel, you just couldn’t take that step. 
No one had ever looked at you the way that he did, truly listened to you when you spoke, and even stood up for you, like whenever the camp’s freak would say things to you vulgar enough to render you speechless, your knight in shining armour would step in and save the day. 
It was the perfect summer. 
Was. 
Completely perfect right up till the murders began to happen. 
You didn’t think in your wildest dreams that Captain and Tennille’s best hits would be blasting over the camp’s speakers while you were running for your life from two nut job serial killers, ones who had already slain what looked like most of the other campers.
Lungs burning, you sprinted through the dark camp, a flicking lamppost above illuminating the path you raced down, the ground littered with sharp pine needles. 
When you made your way to the dining hall, the rotary phone inside, your plan of salvation, turned out to be just as dead as the summer friendships you’d thought would last a lifetime. 
“There’s nowhere left for you to run, little lamb!” the petrifying roar from just outside the hall’s walls caused you to jump and scurry into the kitchen, though when you did, your gaze should have been directed in front of you and not over your shoulder as you swiftly crashed into a figure. 
A blank mask stared down at you, one of the ones that the kids used for crafts, usually decorating them with an explosion of paint and beads. 
Chuckling softly at the way you stumbled back, he playfully uttered, “boo!” raising his hands up to scare you, retroactively flashing you the blade fast in his grip. Half-obscured eyes stilled glued to you, the killer shouted over his shoulder, “found her!” and held the weapon outstretched to keep you where you were. 
“Oh, good,” another masked murderer appeared as the back door was swung open, “well then let’s get this show on the road!”
“Please don’t kill me!” you cried as the one keeping you cornered grabbed you. 
“Kill you?” one of them laughed, “oh honey, we’re gonna do so much more than just kill you,” before he got out a bundle of rope and gestured to his partner, “get her up on the table.” 
Once they’d forced you down upon the cold steel surface and tied you up, they proceeded to reveal something to you that nearly caused your thumping heart to stop. 
“…Steve?” you scarcely breathed as one of them plucked off his mask and tossed it onto a counter. 
“Surprise,” your summer sweetheart flashed you a smile. 
“But–… I’ve been looking for you everywhere all night, you–… you did this?”
“Well, don’t give him all the credit,” the other one peeled off his mask as well. 
“Eddie?” you shuttered, “b-but you two hate each other.”
“That’s what we had to make you think so that no one would suspect a thing,” the long-haired rebel wiped some of the bloodstains on his blade clean on the hip of his jeans, “no one would ruin our plan.” 
“Y-your plan?”
“Might as well tell her,” Eddie nudged his partner who shifted his grip on the axe heavy in his grasp, “since she has such a big part to play in it.”
“Oh, what the hell, why not,” Steve grinned and pulled over a rickety stool, “you see, there are things, wishes, that both me and Eddie have,” the man you thought you’d loved began to explain, “ambitions that, try as we might, we can’t achieve on our own. So, Eddie here found this old book, this tome, that explained a ritual that could grant us our deepest desires...” he uttered dreamily, “it was really quite simple when it came down to it… first 40 lives and then you.”
“…me?” your voice trembled, “why me? I’m not anyone special, I'm just–”
“Oh no, Y/n, you sweet, sweet dumb girl,” Steve chuckled darkly, “you are the final piece to the puzzle,” he stared directly into your soul, “our perfect little virgin sacrifice.” 
Taking a step closer to your strapped-down form, Eddie’s stare danced down your frame, scrapes and dirt still tainting the uniform you’d freshly washed just this morning. 
“But you know, the funny thing is, our lord and saviour down in hell has a funny and pretty ancient definition of what a virgin is,” he teasingly ran the flat side of his blade up the length of your leg, smiling as you squirmed, “sure, some things are off limits, but not a lot…,” the tip of his knife dipped under your shorts and sliced them in two. With the configuration that they had bound you in, everything was already embarrassingly on show, though even more so now that all of your clothes were cut off your frame. Completely mesmerised as the last shred left your form, Eddie uttered softly, “oh, this is gonna be so much fun.”
“What are you doing?” you struggled against the robes as Steve rose from his seat. 
“It’s a real shame, baby,” his broad hands ran up your inner thigh, “I really did wanna pop your cherry myself, fuck I would have loved that, but I don’t deserve it as much as he does,” his thumbs, creeping up to either side of your core, extended out to wickedly spread you apart, “Satan may get to have your pussy,” you shuttered at the mortifyingly soppy sound that emanated as he briefly ran a finger though your folds, “but this little hole isn’t off limits,” his digit then swept down to draw a feathery circle over your rosebud. 
“Nor this one,” Eddie’s hand found your cheeks in a pinch and forced your lips to pucker, “but we might have to do a bit of convincing in order to be able to play up here,” your body stiffened up as the cold edge of his blade then pressed against your throat, “no teeth, or else we won’t make you feel good, won’t give you a little treat before you help us contact the man downstairs.” 
“How in the fuck do you think I’ll like any of this?” you spat back at him. 
“Uh!” they both laughed and shared a glance before Eddie noted, “I think that might have been the first time I’ve ever heard little miss goody two shoes swear! That’s so cute!”  
“Fuck you,” you wept, “you psycho–, oh!” a moan then ripped through your body and surprised you to the very core.
Glancing down between your legs, you saw that Steve was kissing you down there, his lips latched on to the little pearl that always seemed to throb in his presence. 
“What was that about you not enjoying this?” his sloppy peck detached in an obscene pop, “because you sure are soaked for someone who doesn’t think it feels good to be played with… we’re gonna make you feel good, so good, your virgin ass couldn’t even fucking dream about it…” the sensation of Eddie’s palm snaked down to squeeze your tit, while Steve brought his broad thumb up to bully your glistening clit, grinning at how your untouched hole clenched around nothing for him, “just look at how fucking messy you are for us… fucking leaking all over the place…” a groan then escaped him as one of his digits dipped down to slowly sink into your tight ass, simply testing the waters before the pair of them utterly obliterated you, “fuck… you almost make me wanna keep you forever and just find a different virgin to take your place…”
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© 2024 thyme-in-a-bubble 
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diaryofaprettyprincess · 1 year ago
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pervy!carmechanic!stepdad!eddie munson x innocent!stepdaughter!reader where her daddy's been coming into her room at night n her rubbing her until she squeals with delight, coming on his fingers, her stuffies, etc.
she feels those familiar butterflies flutter in her tummy when she sits on the lawn chair, watching eddie fix her cherry red car, his tattooed knuckles slowly becoming more dirty with grease as she sucks on her watermelon lollipop, biting her lower lip as she watches her stepdaddy roll out from under the car. she pushes her heart-shaped sunglasses on the top of her head.
eddie looks at her. god, he thinks, she was so beautiful he wanted to cry.
"baby," he watches her eyes light up, "can u grab me the wrench next to u behind the bench?"
she nods, biting her lower lip as she tries to tame those naughty butterflies.
she stands up, walking to the work bench before bending over to display her pink cotton panties, eddie's mouth practically watering as he pushes down on the tent forming quickly in his pants.
"i-i don't see it, daddy.." she bends down further, and eddie watches her swollen folds press against the thin material of her underwear, biting his lower lip.
"jus-just down more, sweet girl--think it might be under the tool box.." his words are airy and soft as she bends over further, and he catches small wet patch spreading on her panties. "good girl."
suddenly, she pops up, "found it, daddy!" she skips over to where eddie is sitting on the garage floor, handing him the wrench.
"t-thank you, baby."
she beams, her cunt aching as she bites her lower lip, suppressing a whimper as she sits back down on the lawn chair, spreading her legs n not thinking much of it as eddie forces himself to get back to work, the bulge in his pants throbbing.
--
about fifteen minutes later, she decides to go inside as she was getting warm all over--yes, from the heat of summer but also from her body pricking with arousal.
inside, she tries everything to satiate the hunger that burns between her thighs, but nothing seems to work. she spends five minutes rubbing her fat button on her bear stuffie, wetness soaking the fur but alas, no help. she pulls her panties up all of the way until her swollen folds envelope the material, her hips rutting. (eddie did this to her once before as he sucks on her pebbled nipples n she came almost immediately, but it didnt work this time). her lust clouded her mind so incredibly much that she tried rutting her bare cunt against the corner of her bed, but that didnt even work!
she huffed, grabbing her emotional support teddy as she walked back outside to the garage, the butterflies practically fluttering a tornado in her belly.
eddie was busy wiping the grease off of his hands with a ratty washcloth. his messy hair tied back in a loose bun, his facial hair making her heart pound.
"daddy?" her voice came out small n squeaky, and eddie recognized this.
"princess?"
she smiled softly and timidly, twiddling with the fur on her stuffie.
"i got butterflies in my belly,"she pouted softly, tears forming in her doe eyes with frustration as she looked up at her stepfather. "hurts."
eddie's breath hitched in his throat before he cleared it multiple times, running his index finger n thumb over the hairs above his upper lip. "yeah? what kinda butterflies u got,sweet girl?"
she only bit her lower lip nervously. talking about sexual things still made her incredibly shy.
eddie continued , his tone soft and sweet. "the normal ones or the ones where u want daddy to come into ur room in the middle of the night to fix em?"
lets just say her daddy spent three hours fixing her dilemma.
FJSDKFJKFD OKAY THATS ALL I GOT hehe
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theflowerrooms · 1 year ago
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Hiya! So I've just read Swollen Lips and absolutely loved it 😍 I was wondering if you'd maybe take that a bit further in another fic for innocent!reader with oral fixation? Like imagine she'd slept over at Eddie's trailer and he wakes up to her sucking and licking the head of his cock which is just poking out of the top of his pyjama pants... and then take it wherever after that, my brain just got stuck on that one little part, haha
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to request • Eddie’s masterlist • main masterlist • part one
Swollen Lips II
Eddie Munson x innocent!fem!reader with an oral fixation
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Summary; sweet girl sleeping over at Eddie’s when you just really need something, anything between your lips. Thankfully Eddie already taught you the perfect solution.
Thanks for the request!! I loved writing swollen lips, so I loved writing this as well! I got a little carried away! can be read as a stand alone, but would make more sense if you read part one -petal
wordcount: 1.9k
warnings: smut, swearing, dark themes?, dubcon, coercion, somnophilia (reader wakes Eddie up with head), Oral (m and f receiving), fingering (f receiving) overstimulation, squirting, Eddie’s a bit of a perv with an affliction for reader’s innocence.
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He was startled, and pleased. His shirt was clinging to his chest and back and he quickly ripped it off before his eyes focused on you.
His sweet girl on her tummy between his legs, teary eyed and desperate, whining softly. Eddie let out a shaking breath and pet your hair with one hand while he used the other to push his pyjama pants down further so you’d have better access.
Waking up to the sight of your kitten licking and sucking gingerly on the tip of his cock poking out of his pyjama pants was almost enough to knock him back out. And now? He got to bask in the sight and feeling of you moaning softly, whining contently now with his heavy cock on your tongue. “Better baby? That’s all you needed, huh?”
He felt so good, tired and groggy still, and you’d always make him feel good. He’d been with girls, and guys before, not a ton, but enough to have experience, to know what he was doing. You didn’t. You didn’t know what you were doing and that was evident, uncalculated and sloppy, drool leaking down your chin, tongue lapping his precum greedily; it all only spurred him on.
That paired with the fact that his was the first and only dick you’d ever touched, ever even seen. He wanted to keep it that way, make you his, make sure you didn’t know anything he hadn’t taught you and hadn’t seen anything he didn’t show you. He wanted to make sure he was the only one to see you bare and vulnerable.
You looked so beautiful to him right now. You always did, but right now, pleasing him because you needed it? He moaned loudly and you hollowed your cheeks, wanting to make him feel even better.
His fingers laced through your hair and tightened as he pushed his hips up a bit, slowly thrusting into your mouth. He focused on not making you gag or choke, which he thought might freak you out. He only wanted you to be comfortable and happy, so he reached down with his free hand and cupped the side of your face gently, thumb stroking your warm cheek. His touch made you blush. So beautiful.
His hands followed the motion as you moved your head up and down. You noticed the more you moved like that, the better he seemed to feel. Having something in your mouth calmed you down and made you feel good, yes, but making Eddie feel pleasure made you feel even better.
As you moved, your head leaned slightly into Eddie’s comforting touch that you loved. You figured he deserved the same, raising a hand up and under his shirt, gently petting his lower stomach. You weren’t sure if he could feel the love for him come from your hand, but the pink tinting his pale face was enough for you.
He was already close and then like earlier, you wanted more. So your mouth released his cock and dropped to his balls full with cum. Swollen, drool-covered lips left sloppy kisses and you took turns sucking on each of them, not caring to be gentle, but Eddie didn’t mind. He preferred it. He let out a half stifled moan that turned into loud broken moaning when he felt your hand, slightly cold and significantly smaller than his, wrap around his cock, jerking him off at the same paced he jerked himself off earlier. He prayed that Wayne had already left for work. Part of him was slightly disappointed he couldn’t be the one to teach you how to give a hand job now, but a bigger part of him was so proud of you for picking up on what felt good without him telling you. And all of him just felt good.
His hips shook and he whimpered. The sound made you look up at him while you continued worshiping his balls. Innocent, teary eyes looking into his almost made him blow his load right there. “Feels so good doll, gonna- you’re gonna make me cum soon sweetheart.” You didn’t respond to him, just giggled, he felt your smile against his sensitive skin and that was it.
He thrusted up into your hand, strangled breaths punching out of him as his toes curled beside you. He swore his legs shook as he came, but he couldn’t tell, too focused in watching his cum drip over your knuckles, a drop of it hitting your cheek. He swore he heard you whimper when he came.
He blinked quickly, trying to focus his eyes. His eyes focused just in time to watch you lick it off of your fingers, big smile on your face. He swallowed thickly as you moved up the bed to kneel next to him while he fixed his pants. He loved that smile.
“You did so good angel, thank you for that.” He grinned wide, big hand reaching up, swiping his cum off your cheek and gently forcing it into your mouth. He felt you hum around his skin, shuffling slightly. That’s when he noticed your thighs pressed together.
“You know baby.” He started, moving his hand from your mouth to your thigh. Gripping it softly, he zeroed in on the way your pretty lips dropped open. “It feels really good for me when you use your mouth down there. It can also feel really good for you if I use my mouth down here.” He explained as he moved his hand further up your bare thigh, feeling the heat radiating from your covered cunt.
“Really?” You asked, your eyes wide and cheeks warm. He watched you spread your legs just slightly and he was sure you didn’t even realize.
“Oh yeah- absolutely… Can I show you doll?” He asked, pupils blown, hand twitching to reach up further and aching to rub you through your shorts.
You didn’t say anything, just nodded your head and pushed your shorts and panties off. You were eagerly exposing yourself to him, that was enough of a yes to him.
Upon seeing how wet you’d gotten for him, he was quick to throw himself between your thighs. He was even quicker to lick a fat stripe up your folds, dragging his tongue over your clit. He realized slowly that he probably should’ve been slower, but the soft, shaky moan you let out washed away any previous care he had about that.
He held your thighs with a vice grip, feeling you squirm around as he buried his tongue inside of you. His fingers dug into your soft flesh, probably hard enough to leave bruises, but you didn’t complain, so neither did Eddie.
He couldn’t get over how good you tasted, how sweet, all for him. Licking your pretty little pussy was a million times better than settling for the crotches of the panties he’d steal from you. Something he’d never tell you about. “Taste so fuckin’ good.”
He didn’t have to see you to know you were blushing. “Thanks- thank you Eddie.” Your voice shook so obviously, he knew you were probably close. He knew you were definitely close when he went from licking to simply sucking on your clit as hard as he could without hurting you. All you could get out was desperate whimpers and his name, over and over again. Eddie, Eddie, Eddie.
“Feels- feels- it’s funny, feeling funny, E-Eddie.” You struggled to get the sentence out. Eddie laughed quietly and darkly, his hands gripping your hips roughly so you couldn’t pull them away like you were trying to do.
He removed his lips from your sensitive bundle of nerves for just a moment, “It’s okay baby- trust me.” And you did. He sucked your clit into his mouth and shook his head from side to side before you finally came, screaming his name.
He figured this was probably your first orgasm, definitely your first one from someone else, and he was right on both accounts. You shook and screamed. Screams turned into moans and moans turned into whimpers as you came down from this feeling. He could feel your walls twitching against his chin.
He couldn’t help himself as he slid two fingers inside you, amazed by the zero resistance. “Eddie! Too much- too much- no more, I can’t.” Your voice shook and he was quick to soothe you, free hand stroking your hair and you keened into his touch.
He shook his head with a pout that matched yours, he loved that pout. “It’s okay baby, you’re okay, need you to trust me, hm? Like before? gonna feel good again real soon.” He rushed out and you nodded. He smiled, thumb finding your clit, tight fast circles as he thrusted his middle and index fingers in and out of you at a ruthless pace.
Every sound and word that came out of you sounded like one never ending whine, and he loved it. He knew you were gonna cum sooner than before, so sensitive and still so new to it all.
That proved to be right. His fingers inside you dragged against your g-spot over and over. You felt so weird, a new sensation started forming in your lower stomach. You weren’t sure what it meant, and you couldn’t get the words out to let him know. His thumb rolled just right over your clit and that was it. You heard a soft gushing sound and Eddie moaning before you felt your second orgasm hit you even harder than the first. You shook and screamed, heart racing as a hot energy raced from your toes to your head.
It took a few seconds before you came down from your orgasm. Soon your eyes started working again, just in time to watch Eddie suck his fingers clean, another moan of satisfaction leaving his lips. Your eyes fell from his lips to his wet wrist, then to the dark puddle on his bedsheets, no idea how it came from you. Your face flushed knowing you made a mess.
“That was so- so hot. Felt good doing it, seeing that.” He quelled your worries and you smiled shyly at him, saying ‘thank you’. Always so polite, his good girl. His cock was rock hard again under the plaid fabric of his pyjama pants, but he’d ignore it. He’d already worked you to completion and then some. He decided to take it easy on you now and give you the aftercare you deserved. He wouldn’t break you completely like he wanted… Not tonight at least.
He helped you put your panties and shorts back on and pulled you close to him on the side of the bed, out of the way of the wet spot. He spooned you comfortably under the covers, with arm under you, holding you gently. With his other arm, he grabbed your jaw and turned your head to face him, placing a big wet kiss on your soft, beautiful lips. He could get used to kissing you. He laughed softly as you scrunched up your nose. “What’s the matter baby?” He whispered.
“Yucky, I don’t taste nice, ‘s not yummy like yours is.” He knew what you were talking about but couldn’t possibly agree less.
“Well, I love it.” He huffed playfully and rested his head next to yours, fingers finding their way to your lips and slipping past them so you could have something in your mouth as you slept.
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pencilscratchins · 2 years ago
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i have reached the part of the steddie hyperfixation where i make them domesticated men in their 50s. having a blast! (twitter) [ID in ALT text]
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hello-sweetheart · 2 days ago
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I see your “Everybody is scared of Eddie cuz he’s intimidating, but he’s just a fluffy nerdy boy”
and raise you
“Eddie is a fluffy nerdy boy to those he likes but really is fucking scary.”
Cuz that bottle scene was fucking crazy tbh he sprung tf up and was at Steve’s jugular with shard of glass before anyone could move.
Just pinned to wall by an unpredictable fugitive scared to breathe cuz one wrong move and Steve could bleed out before they have the chance to get help. And Eddie’s eyes are dark as shit and intense locked on his and the hand holding the glass is still. Unwavering.
And at that point all steve knows about this guy is that he lives in a sketchier part of town, behaved neurotic and reactive at school, is a drug dealer, and listens to songs about satan or whatever.
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And even after they talk him down he’s still gripping to the bottle
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chaptersleftunwritten · 3 months ago
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Scared?
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Blurb: Eddie is the bane of all your desires but he is also your brother’s best friend… which makes him off-limits. During a visit to your family home Eddie gets a little fed up with you prancing around almost naked and decides that- Enough. Is. Enough.
Pairing: Older brothers best friend!Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader.
Warnings: slight angst, 18+, Mean!Eddie, dubcon/noncon, oral (f receiving), choking, unprotected sex (p in v) swearing, rough sex, slight Bully!Eddie, Dom!Eddie.
-
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divider by @cafekitsune
It really wasn’t Eddie’s fault, what was he to do? Sit back and watch you act like a little slut? To be quite frank, he was sick of it. He was fed up with you pining for his attention constantly-
He had known for sometime how you felt about him. The way your skirt got hiked up a few inches as soon as he entered through the door, or how you would ‘accidentally’ drop things right in front of him, flashing your ass as you bent down to retrieve them. Your brother, Sam, was oblivious to it all. You were his innocent little sister and nothing could change his perception of you. But Eddie knew… he knew how much you wanted him.
It was Halloween night and Sam and Eddie had planned to go TP a few houses, maybe launch a few eggs as well whilst they were at it and like always Eddie was the designated driver. Not because Sam was drinking alcohol but because he still hadn’t got his license. The lazy piece of shit, Eddie thought to himself as he rapped a few hard knocks on your family home’s front door, not expecting to see you answer it.
You roll your eyes at the sight of Eddie, full of a stinking attitude, “Sam isn’t here.” Your hip has popped to one side and Eddie’s jaw clenches with withered patience.
“Where is he?” His voice is clipped, like he doesn’t even want to talk to you.
“Dunno.” You shrug, blowing a small bubble with the bubblegum you’re chewing in your mouth.
“When will he be back?” Eddie shoves his hands into his jean pockets, rocking back and forward on his heels slightly.
“Like I said- I. don’t. Know.” A tight lipped smile stretches Eddie’s face in an almost sinister way.
“Can I at least come in and wait? Surely you don’t hate me that much?” He was toying with you, knowing fine well how much you lusted for him. He had read your cute little diary a few weeks back, the one decorated with rhinestones and feathers… although, its appearance on the outside paled in comparison to the fucking filth written on the inside. The pages were filled with your dirty fantasies and the common denominator between them all?
They were all about Eddie.
It was always him lapping between your legs with his soaking wet tongue, stroking your pussy and making you scream. It was his lips pinching the skin of your neck, leaving marks all over your soft flesh. It was Eddie’s fingers that would bruise your ass with his hard spankings…
And as much as he hated to admit it, the thought of it all turned him on. His cock rock hard in his jeans as he flicked through the pages, only to have to shove it back beneath your bed seconds later.
“Ugh, fine.” You step to the side, allowing the long haired man to slither inside. Eddie had a plastic bag with him, filled with the supplies for the night ahead and you snatch it from him to look inside.
“Hey!” His voice is a rough bark as it leaves his lips, “Give it back!” You only manage to steal a glimpse inside before he is tearing it from your hands, ripping the bag in the process. Eddie lets out an agitated groan, “Fucking great, look what you did!” He waves the bag in front of your face, “Do you seriously have to be such a fucking brat all the time? Pathetic!” His words are laced with venom as he spits them at you- and you should be upset by his words and the way he is reacting but really… it turns you on.
“Why do you have a ‘Scream’ mask?” You bat your eyelashes at him, chewing on your bottom lip as you try to rile him up a bit more, “If anything is pathetic, it’s that. You call that a costume?” You spin on your heels, giggling as you do and you head to the living room to grab some things that you were about to take upstairs before he interrupted you.
“It’s a ghostface mask, the movie is called Scream..” he follows flush behind you, “And it’s not pathetic.” He rakes his ring clad fingers through his hair, clearly you have already managed to stress him out and he has only been here five minutes.
“What are you dressing up as?” He collapses down onto the sofa, “Let me guess-“ he taps his finger on his lips pensively, his eyes drinking in your figure, “You’re gonna be a slutty… something. Am I right?” He grins and you frown over at him.
“I’m not dressing up, you asshole.” Your fingers hook around the handles of your laundry basket, ready to lift it up to your bedroom, “Maybe you should go as a massive dick- because that’s what you are, Munson. A big fat fucking dick!” As soon as the words leave your mouth your chest clenches with heavy regret. You weren’t scared before, but with the look on Eddie’s face, you’re terrified now.
Eddie’s usually puppy soft brown eyes cloud with what you can only assume is rage. You have pushed him to the edge- no, you have pushed him right fucking off of it. He’s done playing these games with you. He’ll make you regret ever wanting him in the first place.
“Don’t look so afraid now, Dollface.” His steps toward you are calculated and his heavy boots pound on the carpeted floor with intention, “You want some help with that?” He nods toward the basket in your arms and you shake your head silently. This basket is the only thing separating you from him and you’ll grip onto it for the rest of your life if it meant Eddie couldn’t get any closer to you.
“Give me it.” He demands, his voice is grumbly as he pries the laundry from your shaking fingers, “Your bedroom, right? That’s where you were taking these?” You nod, not saying another word. Eddie’s demeanour seems as cool as ice but you can see the war waging behind his eyes. He is fucking pissed-
“Words.” He bites, “They exist for a reason y’know.”
“Yes. My room.” You hate the way your voice sounds as it leaves your throat. You wish you could take it back, all of it- all of the times you pressed his buttons, teased him, insulted him. But it’s too late now. What’s done is done,
Eddie gestures an arm out toward the staircase, “Ladies first.” He insists with a forced smile and you suddenly feel an urge to apologise to him for the tiny little shorts you are wearing that are barely covering your ass- hell, some people would consider them underwear.
“Eddie-“ you try to reason with him but immediately you swallow the words after seeing his face contort in a way you don’t want to test. So, you take to the stairs. Your steps are slow as you lift one foot after another, not daring to look back at Eddie who is right behind you on the way up.
The top of the staircase approaches like one lead to the noose and you can hear a voice in your head screaming at you to run away, to fight against him, to protest this- but you don’t. You stay quiet, because deep down… you want this. And you have wanted this for years.
Both of you walk through your bedroom door and you stand as far from him as you can as Eddie dumps your laundry basket down onto the floor, leaving it in a far off corner, “Thank you.” You squeak with a sweet smile, but Eddie doesn’t leave. In fact, he closes your bedroom door and clicks the lock shut. Leaving the both of you alone.
“Get on the bed.” His voice is almost unrecognisable and you would have listened to him if you weren’t frozen stiff to the spot where you stood. It’s as if your feet have been bolted to the floor. Your arms that were crossed over your chest come to fall limply at your sides with shock, “What, do you need help with that too?” Eddie clicks his tongue in distaste, marching over to you he grabs your arms so tightly that you know there will be bruises there tomorrow and he throws you onto the bed so hard that you nearly go flying over it.
“What the hell are you doing?!” You scream, repositioning yourself on the bed to glare at him, but instead of glaring back, he smiles.
“There she is- I wondered where that little smart mouth of yours went.” His large hands find his hair and he pulls it from his shoulders and up into a messy bun, “I was almost starting to feel bad for you- you were so close to avoiding all of this.” You were confused for the most part- what was he going to do to you? Beat you? Eddie would never hurt you, you know that. But why would he lock you away?
“Avoid what? Eddie, I’m sorry-“ Your pleas are cut short by a yelp as Eddie grabs your bare ankles, pulling you savagely to the edge of the bed and restraining your legs in the air.
“No you’re not. You never are.” You had dreamed of this so many times, Eddie Munson in your bedroom, his hands all over your skin… but this seemed to be going in a different direction. One you weren’t sure of.
“Please,” You can feel your eyes becoming a bit teary and Eddie laughs at you manically. Of course you want nothing more than for him to fuck you, but the way he is acting is so out of character… it’s frightening.
“Scared?” He pouts out his bottom lip mockingly, “Aww, the baby is gonna cry- are you crying?” He laughs harder and you decide enough is enough. You attempt to swing your legs off of the bed to stand up but Eddie has other plans. He grabs your frame, taking your wrists into his hands he pins you to the mattress. His waist is slotted between your thighs and the blush that grows on your cheeks is feverish.
“I thought you wanted this…” His appearance softens as his lips come to the shell of your ear, nibbling on the soft flesh, “You’re gonna take my cock and you’re gonna fucking like it.” You can feel him grinning against the nape of your neck before he sucks on the skin, his tongue flicking and soothing the bruises that he’s making. It’s almost like he had read your diary…
Despite the ache pulsing beneath your panties you can’t allow this to happen, Sam would be distraught. It would ruin your siblinghood and Eddie and his friendship. It’ll be a shit show!
“No,” You whisper, fighting the urge to moan as Eddie sucks on a sweet spot you didn’t even know existed.. but he doesn’t stop and you head is becoming hazy with lust, “Eddie, no…” you buck your hips up against his in protest, trying to free yourself from beneath him but he presses his hardened bulge against you tighter, his weight dominating you. You’re trapped.
He grinds his hips into you and you accidentally allow a moan to slip through, it’s faint and dripping with sugar and it sends Eddie’s primal instincts fucking wild. He wants to hear it again but he also needs to find a way to take total control of you.
Eddie starts at your neck, kissing down between the valley of your breasts to your torso he lands at your hips. He momentarily lets go of your wrists so his large thumbs can massage your hip bones and he expects you to try to flee from the bed but you don’t. Or so he thought. You lunge up from the bed and scamper for the door, but unfortunately for you Eddie is fast and before you are able to reach the door his arms are hooked around your waist, carrying you back to the bed. You try screaming, but you know that no one is home… no one’s going to hear you and no one is coming to save you.
This time, Eddie’s impatience is at its peak. He pushes you onto your knees, the bones crashing onto the floor and he forces you face down onto the mattress. Grabbing your arms he secures both of your hands behind your back with a pair of pantyhose from your laundry pile, knotting them tight around your wrists and ignoring your sobs of complaint.
“Stop it!!” You try to stand up but Eddie helps you, only to then shove you back onto your bed. Your sheets were perfectly crease-free this morning when you left your room, now your duvet is a total mess and some of your pillows are on the floor.
“Shut the fuck up!!” Eddie grabs your cheeks, his voice is an animalistic growl as he slams your head back into a pile of pillows. Your bottom lip quiver but your body is betraying your mind- your panties are soaked. Drenched in slick from your core, “I won’t hesitate to gag you, do you understand?” He is between your thighs again and all you can muster is a weak nod, tears still streaking down your face.
“See? You can be a good girl.” A smugness pulls his lips up into a smirk and you readjust yourself to get comfortable, trying to not allow your arms to go to sleep.
It doesn’t take long for Eddie to undress himself and his mind is reeling at the sight of you quivering and crying on your bed. He has wanted nothing more than to punish you for your behaviour for months- and now he is… and you can’t stop him. He rips your shorts down your legs and to he is pleasantly surprised to see that he accidentally pulled your panties off with them, “Whoops.” He tosses them behind him and they land somewhere in the room, “I’ll save those for later…”
You feel overly exposed to him and you try to clamp your thighs together to shield yourself but Eddie isn’t having any of it, “Fucking behave!” He warns, his hand finding your throat as he squeezes it at each side- your mind becomes hazy and your vision nearly totally blacks out.
When he lets go you are fighting for a breath, but no I’m a bad way. You’re more panting than gasping and soon those pants are replaced by moans as you suddenly feel Eddie’s face between your legs. His tongue is licking slow tedious strips up your dripping wet slit and his lips latch onto your swollen clit, sucking it relentlessly, “Taste so good,” He groans, his eyes hooded with hunger and desire, “Pussy is mine. Only fucking mine” His voice vibrates against your folds and your head tilts back against the pillows, your back arching off of the mattress as you resist the urge to grind your pussy on his tongue. You’re not meant to be enjoying this, but your tears have stopped and your moans are getting louder and louder...
“All those tears and for what?” Eddie laughs, blowing some cool air onto your flooded core, sending tingles racing up your spine, “I knew you wanted this, you little fucking slut. Maybe you’ll think twice before wearing skimpy clothes around me, eh?” His eyes meet yours and you nearly cum at the sight. His mouth is glistening with your arousal and his eyes are swirling with hunger.
He latches himself back onto you, his tongue flicking furiously at your sensitive bundle of nerves and just as you are about to feel your release he pulls his, causing a penetrative whine to fill the air.
“You’re gonna cum on my cock- and I’m gonna fill your cute little pussy with my cum.” He digs his fingertips into the flesh of your thighs and you wince at the pain before nodding obediently.
“Words!” He slaps your inner thigh and you yelp.
“Y.. yes! Yes, Eddie!” You’re breathless, swollen, red and craving release and Eddie is drunk on it all. He has total control over you.. he can do as he fucking pleases with you and you can’t do a single thing about it.
His jeans are on the floor in seconds and his hard cock springs from his underwear, causing your eyes to widen. You called him a massive dick early- you just didn’t know that he had one. You couldn’t help the fear that filled your chest at the thought that this actually might hurt.
Jumping from the bed you watch as he walks over to where your laundry basket is, his fist pumping at his shaft as he does. He reached behind the basket, pulling out the Halloween mask from earlier and he slips it on.
“What is it you said about this earlier?” He taps the white plastic of the mask, his deep voice now muffled by the material, “That it was pathetic?” He hums in disappointment and you can tell that beneath that mask he is grinning like a mad man.
He slaps his cock against your core, laughing as you gasp at the sensitivity of it. Using your knees as leverage he holds your thighs wide open, teasing your entrance with the swollen tip of his shaft and when you hear him moan it sends your mind fleeting into the clouds. You must have died and went to heaven because this is what this felt like.
He sinks down, fully submerging every inch of himself deep inside of you and you whimper at the stretch. You fucking whimper and Eddie’s eyes roll to the back of his head, “Fuck,” he seethes, “You’re so wet, Doll. So wet and tight and warm for me.” He groans and your bottom lip feels like it could be bleeding from how hard you are biting on it. You never thought you would see the day when Eddie Munson fucks you in a horror mask- but anything is possible if you’re bratty enough.
He bottoms out, watching through the dark eyeholes of the mask as he sinks back inside of you. He slow at first, making sure to drink in every pulse, every filthy wet noise- but then he’s speeding up. He doesn’t care that you’re screaming out from the change in rhythm he is starving- he wants to use you like you’re a doll and whatever Eddie wants, Eddie gets.
“Ahh!!” You cry out, your eyes pinching shut as Eddie’s shaft hits your special spot ,”Shit!” Your breathing hitches in your throat and your nails claw at the pantyhose around your wrists, desperate to grip onto something to steady yourself.
Eddie’s moans intensify, the sound of wet skin slapping against one another fills the air as Eddie grabs your throat again, desperately chasing his own release ,”Look at me!” He urges with haste and you do, your eyes reopening to settle on the ghostface cladding his features. You try your best, you really do and Eddie appreciates the way you fight to keep your pretty eyes open and on him as the oxygen is deprived to your brain but as you reach your high and Eddie spills inside of you.. you black out.
Completely unconscious and the only image you remember when you reawaken is that of the ghostface mask from Scream…
-
taglist: @colorful-white-ideas
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strangerxperv · 5 months ago
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Y'all seem to really like step bro Eddie (I can see those votes you naughty bitches) so here's a lil thot.
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Warning: smut/ minors DNI, step bro Eddie, Eddie is a warning, he's also manipulative, unprotected sex, breeding, edging, Eddie runs his mouth a lot, and your both drunk off sex.
Eddie's been begging you to let him fuck you for months. You've held steady by refusing him at every turn stating that it's taboo. It would be crossing the line if the both of you were to have sex.
Kissing in secret is one thing. Letting him fuck your pussy with his tongue is reasonable. Choking down Eddie's cock, fair. But letting your step brother fuck you? Out of the question.
You aren't one to not compromise and that's how he's landed you on your back. Legs spread wide with Eddie's warm hands under your knees. Pressed firmly on your bare bouncing fat tits. Your small hands are wrapped around you to keep his dick in place.
The leaky cherry red tinted a pretty purple is smashed against your stiff clit. It dribbles precum which pools over your clit to seep into your pulsing heat. He fucks over your cunt like a man possessed.
Fucking you to the edge but never letting you fall over and over again. The man himself has spilled his seed spraying over your cute jiggling tummy. But he never stopped fucking you.
It's been so long that your brain has completely melted and long since dripped from your desperate depths. You want to cum so bad you'll do anything the curly haired man wants. You'll even break your own rules.
"Please! Eddie! -Mmm- please, just fuck me-" your breathless whines gasping out through swollen lips.
"Why should I? You said it yerself. I can't fuck my sweet lil sis, 's too taboo, but this way I'll get to pretend-" Eddie's smirk is so mean you can't help it as tears streak over plump cheeks.
"P-p-pleeEEeease! Please, am sorry and I don't care if i's wrong! I wan' your cock in my pussy! Please! I'll be good an' I'll do anything, I swear!" Your sobs are exactly what your big brother wants to hear.
"Oh yeah? You sure that's a good idea? I don't have any condoms..." His hands slip out from under your knees one dragging your hand from between you. His hands hold yours above your head as his shoulders support your legs. Eddie's throbbing erection is sandwiched by both your bodies. His lips brush your ear, "Baby, you aren't on birth control. Won't that really cross the line? Knocking you up?"
"I wan' it! Wanna have your babies! No one makes me feel so good or loves me so well, please." Your hands clench around his as if imploring him, hoping he'll ravage you.
"Such a good girl. Gon' make a good mama too-" Eddie angles his hips till his tip is kissing your quivering hole, "We're gon' make such pretty babies," Finally he sinks into your cunt with easy. The man has been edging you for so long your slick pussy welcomes him, "Fuck! Fuckfickfu-!"
He's thrusts are relentlessly deep where no one has ever dared to reach. His phallus punches in fast succession against your cervix. It stings in such a pleasant way your breath catches, "and I'm gonna- heh- im gonna teach 'em music."
"Eddie-!" You squeal with your head thrown back, "I's too much!! Too deep!!"
"No, s'not. Not enough. Need more an' 'm gon' give you more!" His words are slurred slack jawed and pussy drunk above you, "Godda be deep, baby, so ya can get knocked up."
For the second time tonight you wonder what you've gotten into.
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hitlikehammers · 4 months ago
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Steddie Wrong Blind Date AU 💜
what if you meet the wrong love of your life?
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He doesn’t know how the fuck he got here. At a very nice bar in a very nice restaurant.
Sitting alone.
Or well: he knows. It’s more that he can’t believe he let it happen.
Again.
Because Steve had finally (finally!) made sufficient enough threats logical arguments to curb Robin’s attempts—well-meaning, dingus, well meaning attempts!—to set him up with so-and-so’s cousin or whoever-the-fuck’s roommate. The blind dates had actually been his first successful method to ultimately shoot down, on the basis that they weren’t just fucking humiliating: they were goddamn degrading.
For reasons such as his current situation.
And of all the things Robin desired for him, they both knew she’d never knowingly cause him pain. So that left him working with awkward introductions at parties, sometimes at completely random places even, like too-weird-to-be-coincidence run-ins at the grocery store and shit, where Robin just so happened to be shopping when both her targets were there. It was borderline frightening, but. It was very Robin. And Steve adored her more than anything and struggled too much to stay mad at her—he’s definitely tried his damnedest, more than once—so. He knows her intentions come from the heart, regardless of how disastrously they pan out in reality.
Which is why Steve is allowing this once—and only once—because he’s not stupid, but. He appreciates the ingenuity.
And getting your girlfriend to make the blind date pitch was…technically honoring his rules.
So. He’s allowing this to slide once. Once. One time.
One. More. Time.
And he’s already got his justification, fucking iron clad too, to call it on sight. Failed attempt, the guy’s already twenty minutes late and that’s…that’s past fashionable, really, especially for a set up like this. He glances at his phone, just to see if he’s got anything from Chrissy as an update—Steve loves her, and Robin adores her, and that’s the only reason he’s not spending the minutes he waits, sipping stupidly-slow at the same tequila sunrise, plotting revenge against her for being so gullible, so willing to not merely enact Robin’s last-gasp efforts but to participate, actively, because apparently tonight’s ’perfect match, he’s so your type!’ was Chrissy’s suggestion—but there’s nothing. Just the last message from an hour ago reassuring him against backing out in the first place:
he’s tall, dark, handsome, 100% your type. maybe a little *theatrical*: you’ll LOVE him 💕
Steve didn’t, and still doesn’t, understand what she means by theatrical, and honestly he’s kinda wary for it—he doesn’t like playing games when it comes to romance: he’s too all-in, and too quickly, for any of that.
Which also means that, as much as he thinks it’s a fucking laughable sham to have agreed to this, and as much as he’d walked in knowing that, knowing he was entertaining the farce against his own will: it still…doesn’t sting, exactly. But it definitely squeezes uncomfortably in his chest for no good reason that he’s been fucking stood up and yeah, yeah, that means it’s time to—
He reaches for his drink and notices it’s empty. Just another sign, really, so he move to gesture the bartender over to pay but—
Someone’s got a better angle, actually gets the guy’s attention before Steve can even try—a someone sitting two empty chairs down who lifts his glass for another, then gestures the exact same way with an empty toward Steve’s sad glass of ice.
“On mine,” he tips his chin Steve’s direction before the bartender grabs Steve’s glass along with the stranger’s and makes for refills, then it’s just the stranger turning the whole of his body around on the stool to face…Steve.
“For the handsome nobleman,” and he says it with a stilted lilt that’s somehow not disingenuous, and it’s odd, to put it mildly, paired with a little bow of his head that definitely matches the affected voice but also definitely gives the stranger a perfect window to run his gaze up and down Steve’s seated frame—it’s a good move, Steve can’t even deny it, no matter how…weird.
But…also, there’s a warmth in it? Maybe in the gaze, something that’s not just heat, or maybe in the tone that’s not just putting on a show.
Something.
“In fact I do say the very handsome nobleman doth sit alone beyond comprehension,” the stranger seems to correct himself, and the way his lips curl, wider and then pull back a little, like he hesitates, like he’s maybe bolder than this in other situations but is reserving himself just a touch for here and now—and goddamn but this is pretty fucking bold already, whatever it actually is:
“And he deserves plentiful libations,” and Steve didn’t even notice the new drink on the counter until the stranger reaches, tips precariously on his stool, and slides the glass closer before nodding toward it, almost like another little bow: “in his tarrying.”
Steve stares wordless for a second because, outside of that weird fucking Renaissance Fair thing the kids dragged him to, he’s never heard anyone talk like that. So the setting’s all fucked up because this is Manhattan, at a not-particularly-inexpensive bistro type venue, definitely devoid of turkey legs.
Plus the guy in question doesn’t quite look the part—gorgeous curls to the shoulders, facial structure to kill a man, legs for days draped down the stool and dressed in shades of black top to bottom, from the button up in charcoal fucking silk, to the weirdly-suited boots that might have a steel toe hiding or might just be playing, the only color on him the pout of his lips and the slight flush visible in the low bar light brushed over his cheeks before he leans a little closer, eyes maybe the darkest thing about him and kinda goddamn mesmerizing for it, especially for how they somehow tiptoe along a fine line between almost disorienting focus on Steve and Steve alone, and something close to hesitant, or maybe more bashful when he clears his throat and asks:
“Perhaps this very handsome nobleman would also enjoy some company,” and his tone’s not even playing coy about being hopeful, before he full-on lays a palm to his chest in old-fashioned apology as his lashes flutter a little and he goes all self-deprecating, and genuine in it, as he adds in that same bashfulness:
“Even if only that of a humble bard, such as myself?”
And Steve’s not above being wholesale dumbstruck for a good second, like his hearing goes tunneled and his pulse echoes for the narrowing: this man is unreal.
Very…theatrical. One-hundred percent his type. Two-hundred percent, even. Jesus.
So Steve’s quiet for a second, but he’s not known for his charm because he can’t bounce back quicker than average, certainly quicker than risking that gorgeous face falling for the dashing for the hope painted open all over it, not a stroke of artifice in sight.
Steve’s not even trying when he fucking feels his own automatic walls start to slip as he leans, meets the man move for move so they can hear each other close as the bar starts to fill a little more:
“Only if I can get the next round,” and if Steve purrs it, it’s a reflex; if it darkens those already depthless eyes, well. He’s close enough to appreciate the swell of the pupil, the deepening of the flush on those cheeks.
If Steve’s heart jumps a little, there’s not a soul who can call him out for it; tree in the woods with no one to hear it fall.
But it does. It so does.
The man does an adorable little shimmy across the seats between them, taking the one closest to Steve and then doing a little scootching of even that to settle all the closer, and it shouldn’t be endearing, but Steve feels like he can bet on his ribs being sore by the end of whatever this is, or ends up being, just for the swelling beneath them already underway.
“If my request is being so highly honored, so as to join you,” the man takes a little bundle of his curls and drags them across the corner of his lips before tucking it back and…Steve has the immediate urge to have done it for him instead, what the hell, too fucking soon, man—
“Does his majesty have a name?”
It takes Steve a couple long seconds to register that the man means him, though it doesn’t escape Steve that the reference, while it took a while to land? Never for an instant felt like it did in high school, or even shortly after. It felt…warm.
“Steve,” he says with a smile, more twisting his palm than extending his hand to shake given their proximity; “and you, my,” Steve licks his lips then presses them tight around a grin before choosing his words: “very odd but very endearing bard, was it?”
“It was, indeed,” the man lights up near fluorescent; “I’m Eddie.”
Maybe it’s the way he says it, or the way he takes Steve’s hand. But…Jesus.
It’s…a really good name.
“Then tell me, Eddie,” Steve doesn’t let go of the hand in his, their touches just slowly slide apart and it feels…like a loss but not a crushing one, Eddie’s still close enough to feel the heat of him.
“Unless I’m totally off, I think I know from exposure, not playing, that a bard’s a musician, yeah?” Or is it a storyteller, or maybe both, there’s a good fucking reason he never have in to playing the nerd game—
“Tell me what makes you introduce yourself like that right off the bat, then.”
And Eddie glows for the opening, the invitation, and the thing is? He doesn’t stop; he’s like a star unto himself, shining and bathing Steve in the glimmer as he talks about music, about growing up in a house of it, about it being tough sometimes but his mother took him to live with his uncle, the three of them and then it was easier and there was also more music, new music, and he tells Steve about bands he’s played in, joined and left, guitars he’s loved and lost, the whole shipping boxes he has piled with full notebooks of lyrics and ideas from years upon years; and then he pivots, or maybe that’s not even it, because what he really does is test the waters around where Steve thought the bard reference came from in the first place—the nerd game. Steve confesses he was a mostly an unwilling bystander but it was probably more because he didn’t get it, and honestly his reluctance was more for show than anything, he loved what his kids loved at the end of the day, what made them happy—which left Steve explaining the kids, explaining Robin, explaining his family in a way Steve hasn’t done in relationships that lasted months, let alone first conversations on very first dates.
He should be terrified. He isn’t.
He should be terrified of the isn’t. And…and yet.
“My turn for a question,” Eddie fills the first soft lull in conversation, one that stretches taffy-sweet and almost kinda giddy; Steve doesn’t even know what he’s feeling because he doesn’t know if he’s ever felt it before, like, ever—all he knows is that it’s kind of fucking fantastic, like something he already never wants to let go of. So of course he nods, welcomes Eddie’s turns for a question even if it doesn’t seem entirely necessary; the back-and-forths sliding so natural, so balanced.
“Why the choice of drink?”
Eddie nods at the glass almost empty in his hand while Steve squints and laughs a little.
“What?” Steve asks because he doesn’t understand, sure, but also because the unpredictability, alongside the sheer earnestness of this man is…it’s disarming in the best fucking way. Like maybe Steve’s falling but he never wants to stop and—
Too soon, too fucking soon even if that’s not what he meant, exactly; he thought it, and it’s too fucking soon—
“Everyone has a reason for ordering a drink,” Eddie explains with a grin that pops those delicious dimples; “habit, by which there’s a story of the first time you tried it,” he ticks off on his nimble looking fingers, the rings on them catching the lights; “spontaneity, by which there’s a tale of what inspired it,” and fuck, they’re so long, those fingers, Steve kinda wonders how many knuckles he could fit in his mouth; “memories, by which there’s something poking at them.”
Eddie pauses, takes Steve in, no doubt sees Steve hanging onto, damn near salivating over his every word even as he swallows and takes a breath to collect himself as discreetly as he’s capable; it just makes those dimples divot deeper.
“I could go on,” Eddie offers, a little sly in his smile, the knowing kind, but his tone is soft, like maybe Steve’s not the only one feeling…things. And maybe Eddie wants him to know it. Maybe so that he’s not alone. Maybe because they both fucking like it. Maybe—
“Habit,” Steve answers, unable to keep from smiling around the rim of his glass when he takes a sip. “I got sick on shots and swore off straight tequila, but I was always up for the, y’know, frou-frou drinks,” he swirls the maybe-two-swallows left for show: “so long as it tasted good I didn’t give a shit, y’know, and then a,” Steve pauses a second, wonders how best to describe that particular figure from his past before settling on:
“An old friend, told me once,” and then Steve pauses again, this time because he can feel the rush of heat to his cheeks because oh, shit, now he’s backed himself into having to say it—
“Oh, now you have to share,” Eddie coaxes, a singsong in his voice and a wide-eyed wonder to him, something like genuine investment in what comes next, what’s next in something solely about Steve, that almost soothes the embarrassment;
“Unless you’re displaying the answer with this,” and Eddie only just brushes the flat of his fingernail to Steve’s cheekbone, too quick to appreciate the shiver it sends down Steve’s spine, through his fucking veins, that’s not helped one bit by Eddie murmuring, a little sensual, but somehow also a little dazed, a little starry-eyed when he breathes out:
“Blush like the sunrise.”
And if he wasn’t already, fuck knows Steve is now.
He misses Eddie’s touch against it, too. Even so fleeting. Wishes he were bold enough, or foolish enough, to grab Eddie’s hand and let him feel what he’s doing, the heat in him. The way his blood rushes.
He’s not, because that’s fucking insane and way too much too soon, but.
Wanting doesn’t play by those rules.
“Almost,” Steve picks up the glass and swirls it again; “he said I was like sunshine,” Steve recalls with a little grin—it’s a softer memory now than it used to be. He laughs a little and downs the last of what’s left of his drink. “Think it was more because of a yellow sweater I wore way too much at the time, but,” and he places the empty down and so he doesn’t see it coming until it happens: Eddie’s hand. On his hand, on the glass.
“No.”
Steve looks up, barely breathes. Eddie has soft hands.
“No, I think it was more than that, Sunshine,” Eddie tells him, honest and certain and a little breathless and Steve’s of two equal minds: he’s never been so aroused. But he’s also never felt so seen.
And wanted.
“Another?” Eddie asks, but his eyes don’t leave Steve’s to look at their drinks, to be anywhere but in this moment, here with him.
“You’re sure?” Steve makes himself ask it, doesn’t bother forcing himself to sound anything but pulling for one answer and one answer alone. “Don’t have somewhere better to be?”
“Wouldn’t have asked otherwise,” Eddie does look away then, but down at their hands, strokes his thumb a little down where Steve’s wrist starts to curve. “And I’m struggling just now to think of anywhere better than right here.”
And then Eddie’s placing his fingers between Steve’s, just resting them in the middle spaces: they’d fit. So well.
They…will. They will fit fucking gloriously.
“My round, then,” though Steve’s lost count if they’re even, how many drinks they’ve actually had—not too many, he’s pleasantly buzzed at best and maybe more on the company than anything else if he’s honest, but he likewise doesn’t know how long they’re been there, sipping between baring their fucking souls in the most mundane ways that…
That Steve thinks have started to kindle something in him. Started to breathe life into a part of him he didn’t know was dormant, forgot he could feel until it started unfurling like this, deep in his chest.
“Need something to cut through the sugar,” he says idly, but he doesn’t miss the way Eddie’s breath catches when Steve tightens his fingers to catch Eddie’s before letting go, sliding the glass forward so the bartender can see and then he orders: “The Glenlivet 14,” he points; “neat,” then he glances at Eddie’s glass of melting ice—he’s been on Black Russians the whole time;
“Keeping at it, or something new?”
“You make a compelling argument for easing up the sweet,” Eddie cocks his head, taps his chin consideringly; “especially when you’re agreeing to remain as my company,” he shoots over a heated glance and a smile too big to be as wicked as Steve thinks Eddie might have aimed for but it doesn’t matter, it has the same bewitching, pulse-stuttering effect either way.
“Bulleit Rye, on the rocks,” Eddie taps his glass with a certain finality.
“A man after my own heart,” Steve comments with a nod; it’s a good order. He doesn’t think about the words themselves before they come out.
“And if I wanted to be?”
And then Steve thinks about the words with every goddamn cell in his body, like his blood repeats them and the electricity that works his brain as much as his heart is making little lightning storms around the comment, then the question, and then the implication because Steve…
Steve’s never wanted anything more. Steve’s never been offered anything even close and here’s this man? And he can’t be saying what Steve..thinks he has to be saying because what else can those words mean—
“Too quick?” Eddie pulls back the slightest bit and Steve misses him immediately; “I usually am, I’m so—“
Steve misses him, and will not have him doubting because Steve knows that feeling intimately, knows this man deserves none of it, and knows it’s anything but warranted when Steve’s heart, the one Eddie might want to be after, just took up leaping in his fucking chest like a goddamn gazelle.
So Steve doesn’t think, at all, when he grabs the hand Eddie placed on his a few minutes ago and cups it to his chest, the best proof he knows that can’t be overthought, or rationalized away.
Eddie’s eyes are confused, for a second, until he feels it.
And then: but, fuck.
Steve’s never watched a flower blossom all at once before but…that’s all he can think of with the slow crawl of a smile, the bright gleam of something like wonder in eyes that get impossibly wider, a chest that rises and falls heavy abd quick under the silk Steve wants to unbutton a little, see more of that milk-smooth throat save now that he’s looking, he can see enough to take note of Eddie’s pulse there: riotous.
It’s too good. It’s too much.
But Eddie feels it with his own hand. Steve sees it with his own eyes.
Here they are.
“That’s usually my line,” Steve finally exhales, tries to make it a joke between them, an understanding and maybe it works, maybe they’re both too distracted by the hinting promise of maybe never needing to have such a joke again:
“Not too quick.”
And Eddie stays there, riveted, beaming something blinding and Steve just…feels his own heartbeat. Under a hand that doesn’t seem inclined to want to move.
Not too quick.
Eddie blinks at him, almost like he’s waking up from something he wasn’t even aware he’d been sleeping through, or walking through half-dazed. Like he’s seeing something real for the very first time. His breaths are fast, a little shaky, and then he’s standing, pulling Steve’s hand from his chest up to Eddie’s mouth and kissing his knuckles, watching Steve every second as Steve’s own breath hitches, and then pulling away, but not letting go yet. Like he’s reluctant to.
“Let me hit the head real fast, throw some water on my face to make sure I’m not dreaming,” Eddie whispers to him, breathless still and looking almost like he’s trembling; “while he gets those poured,” he tips his head toward the bar where their drinks are still waiting their turn.
Then Eddie’s brining Steve’s hand to his lips again and whispering there, and yeah, the man’s shaking a little as he breathes, almost shy:
“Don’t go anywhere?”
As if it’s even a question.
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Steve promises with all he’s got, because he thinks…it’s insanity, but he thinks maybe he walked so reluctantly into this bar however many hours ago and somehow, by some act of benevolent fate, he’s…found the man who’ll prove to be the love of his life?
Steve could not be moved for anything.
Eddie walks half-backward for how much he turns to look back at Steve, and Steve waves a few times, makes a few stupid faces just to see Eddie struggle not to giggle, and it’s…
He did say his chest was gonna be sore by the end of the night but, Jesus. He doesn’t know if he even has ribs left, or if they’re all broken, crushed to smithereens, for how full his chest feels. Nothing so common and simple as the bones of him could stand up to this and not be changed.
He smiles as he pulls his phone out—when was the last date he had where he didn’t look at his phone? Has he ever been on one before?—and he registers they’ve been sitting here, sharing themselves in a way that feels more like laying a foundation, deliberately, and that’s, that is…
Steve’s spent a very long time wishing for someone who’d want that, with him of all people. He was pretty sure he’d made his peace with never finding it. And then: here he is.
He bites his lower lip, lest his grin crack his face, when he thinks of texting Chrissy real quick and just…thanking her. Because, yeah.
Steve did, in fact, end up loving him.
Like…too-soon-but-for-real-pitter-patter-heart-skipping-beats shit.
So he thumbs open the chat and sees…unread messages.
He doesn’t full-on frown, too high on, just, everything, so he opens the texts before he can assume the worst of someone texting him during a date they, you know. Played a key role in setting up:
he may be running late for traffic, if you haven’t left please STAY I promise he is WORTH IT 🙏🏻💞
Steve’s not even sure Eddie was late, maybe they’d been sitting a few stools away for twenty minutes: it feels like a lifetime ago, now, and—
Then Steve sees the timestamp. Sent…like two hours ago.
He’d been at least two tequila sunrises in, with Eddie versus on his own, by then so, what was Chrissy even talking about—
He scrolls to the most recent message.
Seventeen minutes ago.
omg Steve I’m so sorry and *he* is so sorry, he’s absolutely cut up about this he’s still in traffic but he says he’s determined to try, he’s got flowers for you and everything he’s SUCH A GOOD GUY STEVE I swear I wouldn’t have done this if if I didn’t think he’d treat you like you deserve and this isn’t his fault, I even checked waze and it’s a mess but he understands if it’s too much and—
“Everything okay?”
Eddie’s already taken his seat, and is looking at Steve with polite interest, not leaning to see what’s on his screen like so many people do on instinct, but there’s actual concern underneath, and investment in it. Like whatever’s wrong, Eddie wants to help fix it.
Steve, reeling over the way the puzzle pieces are slotting into place—namely that, by all accounts, the earliest his intended date could have arrived was maybe ten minutes ago—looks up at Eddie, turns his phone screen-down on the bar and clears his throat, bites the bullet.
“This may seem like a,” Steve takes a deep breath, because he has to ask even if he is almost dead certain of the answer; “a kinda out-of-nowhere question but.”
And then Steve meets Eddie’s eyes square on, lets them wash over him and fucking hell: they steady him. Already, they’re an anchor for him in the worst of storms.
“Were you, by any chance, here for a blind date?”
Steve watches Eddie’s face cycle through maybe the five stages of…shock, more than grief given the context, he guesses, but they’re somehow closer to one another than Steve would’ve thought, definitely considering they only just met, though then he’s gotta consider that it feels like Eddie’s burrowed safe in his chest amidst all the blossoming joy, all the warm fullness like he lives there to be kept inside it always and also to maintain it, preserve it, as its sole cause and reason to be: but Eddie—Eddie looks at him with eyes that go wide, that fall with the rest of his face and then shutter a little, and that tears into Steve the hardest, to see something come up like barrier when Eddie’s the reason Steve feels so raw right now, and alive for it; he can’t let Eddie feel less than that, feel the need to pull back from that, from him—
Then he’s placid. Calm. Accepting.
But he deep wells in his eyes: they’re wet. They’re devastated, somehow.
And…no.
But before Steve can move, can speak: there’s a bright, colorful thing that stands out in his periphery—he catches it, flowers near the hostess stand—and his eyes flick to the person holding them, looking dismayed and definitely out of breath; attractive, brunet, weirdly familiar, and then he’s gesturing just so and…
Oh. Oh, that’s…
Steve made the comment two weeks ago, after the show he and Robin had gone to at the Gershwin, that he’d climb the lead like a goddamn tree. She’d groaned, pushed him into a nasty-ass wall that’d earned her the bill for dinner and drinks—but she’d had that look in her eye. And he’d ignored it but now—staring said lead, out of costume, still very handsome even while so fucking distraught, wilting more by the second as Steve tries not to stare too obviously, but then add in that Chrissy knowing half the standbys, that her being the reason they even got tickets, and Robin’s look—well.
“Theatrical” being…fucking literal, like a little clue, suddenly makes a whole lot of sense.
“Oh, shit,” Eddie says it under his breath but there’s…way more disappointment than their objectively-brief encounter should merit as he processes, eyes already having followed Steve’s, and puts the pieces together: no matter how late, Steve’s very-probable blind date’s entered the building.
Which—if Eddie answers the question the way the resignation making its home on his face suggests he will—makes Eddie…
“No, sweetheart,” and Eddie’s gathering Steve’s hands slowly, gently, and his face is mostly lax and his mouth tries for a smile but it’s just this side of a grimace as his eyes, god, they’re so bright, like maybe if you can’t stare you won’t see the hurt but Steve doesn’t have to look long for it to burrow into his own chest and flay at his beating fucking heart.
“No, I wasn’t.”
And Eddie looks down at their hands, like he did before, and the tenor to the staring is wholly different, now, subdued and mournful, and Steve’s mind’s already made up but, if it hadn’t been?
The unthinkable reality of witnessing this beautiful man’s heartbreak would seal the deal entirely.
“You know what?” Steve grabs Eddie’s hands back, and squeezes them tight as he makes to stand:
“Neither am I.”
Eddie’s lips part, and his brow furrows, eyes cutting to the front entrance, to the flowers, to a man who isn’t him as if that man could ever somehow be preferable, be more…more anything—
“But,” Eddie tries to protest, confusion undergirding the heartbreak, holding it still. Like…like breathless waiting, held in a frightful uncertainty, like weighing hearts against feathers: some cosmic importance in the balance.
Steve honestly couldn’t agree more. He just already knows how this scale tilts.
“You wanna get out of here, continue this conversation at any of the hundreds of other bars nearby?” Steve says, buttoning his blazer and reaching out a hand, hoping it stays steady; praying Eddie will read his conviction, his certainty, his heart and want to reach back.
And all the slow-rotting sickness in his stomach trying to climb upward and puncture all the buoyant joyful wonder in him for for every second that ticks by without Eddie’s hand in his, it’s all wiped away, burned by the flame of wanting and then getting, of Eddie’s hand in his properly held and Steve was fucking right.
They fit together gloriously.
“It would be my heart’s-sworn honor, my liege,” Eddie breathes, like maybe he’s afraid to hope and Steve won’t have that; and he thinks he knows what Eddie’s saying, knows what the fanciful words mean but he needs to be sure, so he lifts a brow and waits until Eddie grins again so his dimples start to show and he huffs, relief in it:
“I’d fuckin’ love to.”
They down their drinks in one go, gather their things and leave double their bill, barely paying anything so much as a glance when they could look at each other and marvel instead. They walk out opposite the flowers, paying neither the blossoms nor their holder any mind. The thing blooming between them, in Steve’s chest all the bigger and full and brighter for every step he takes with Eddie’s hand in his: it’s so much more than anything with stems and leaves, that grows in the ground. Like Eddie’s glow is more than a star could even hope for. Like the sunshine that’s maybe not Steve at all, that’s really just this feeling, and the way that it grows—it’s beyond explaining. It’s held between their hands alone.
And maybe Steve will text Chrissy and explain, ask her to send his regrets to the theater guy. Tomorrow.
Then Eddie tugs him closer unexpectedly, his laughter all music as he brings Steve’s hand to his lips again, then to his chest where this time, Steve catches the wild gallop of his pulse as proof.
He doesn’t think either of them have a fucking clue where they’re headed. They have every option in front of them, and want nothing more than the touch of the other, and the promise it holds inside.
So Steve does the tugging, now; curls one hand around Eddie and draws him in, his hand caught between their chests so perfect and tastes the coffee liqueur beneath the rye on his tongue and thinks of nothing else, not texting, not set-ups, not waiting: because he’s here. Right here.
And Eddie’s heartbeat feels like home somehow already; the taste of him is nothing short of divine. They’re fully clothed on a New York street and this is the most intimate thing Steve’s maybe ever felt, after the most meaningful evening he’s maybe ever spent with anyone. At a bar. Drinking tequila and grenadine.
He starts laughing, right against Eddie’s lips, right into Eddie’s mouth, so maybe some of the joy will trickle down into his chest, inside his heart so he’ll know even just a fraction of the joy that’s making Steve feel not lighter than air, or dizzy with the speed of it all—but again, maybe for the very first time: real. Solid. Worth something this momentous.
And maybe—increasingly likely, even, as if that’s not the most incredible, unfathomable, heart-starting thought he’s ever entertained but he thinks maybe he might just actually have a shot here, or can even already say just a little bit that he’s—
Loved.
Fuck. Fuck.
Scratch maybe sending a text by tomorrow—he’ll process getting ahold of Chrissy (and that conniving girlfriend of hers) to invite them to the goddamn wedding.
Because right now? Steve’s kissing the man he’s gonna spend the rest of his life with, the man he’s going to live and die learning to love better with everything he is and ever could be: one hand pressed between both their chests, and it’s not too much because Eddie’s pressing them together tighter, body to body and hanging on like he’s trying to hold Steve’s heart in from the back of his ribs just in case; and it’s not too soon because it feels like every single goddamn thing he’s waited for his whole life, beating and clinging and gasping and melding into place finally, finally because it’s…everything. This is everything.
They are everything.
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For @starryeyedjanai, who requested 'Wrong Number/Wrong Blind Date AU' at my HOBBIT-STYLE BIRTHDAY MONTH PROMPT FEST and incidentally also for @steddie-week for the Day Three prompt 'Long' (which is employed in a couple of abstract ways here)
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✨permanent tag list: OPEN (lmk if you want to be added/removed): @pearynice @hbyrde36 @slashify @finntheehumaneater @wxrmland @dreamwatch @perseus-notjackson @estrellami-1 @bookworm0690 @imhereforthelolzdontyellatme @nerdyglassescheeseychick @swimmingbirdrunningrock @goodolefashionedloverboi @sanctumdemunson @theheadlessphilosopher @lawrencebshoggoth
divider credits here
ao3 link here ✨
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2jihiir0 · 6 months ago
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Steve secretly keeps this (stolen) picture in his diary while Robin judges his questionable taste in men ..
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trensu · 1 year ago
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Steve had always wanted to be a skilled fighter. The schools that churned out the best fighters all happened to be schools for holy warriors. It was possible that Steve maybe sort of lied a little (with the help of his friends Robin and Dustin) to get into this school by claiming he was full to the brim of religious fervor but hadn’t decided who to pledge his sword to yet. It shouldn’t have worked, if he were honest with himself, but by some stroke of luck it did, and he finished his training as one of the top combatants. 
The issue now was that he had to pick a god whose crest to carry. There were all sorts of gods. Gods of water, gods of air, gods of agriculture, war gods, cat gods, plant gods...the list was endless. And while Steve was one of the best fighters around, he was most definitely not one of the best researchers. Thankfully Dustin and Robin were very clever and knew where to find details about the many gods in existence.
“So what kind of god do you want to follow? Maybe we can start there,” Robin asked.
“Uh…a good one?”
“You’re no help at all, you know that?” Dustin grumbled.
They suggested a local god known as Carver who stood for righteousness, but Steve turned that down. It didn't feel like a good fit. They suggested a love god by the name of Chrissy, who valued love of all kinds, romantic, platonic, familial...Steve had been tempted, very tempted, because Steve had always carried an excess of love in his heart. Robin had vetoed that one stating that Steve was already too reckless with his love and she wouldn't stand by and watch him break his own heart over and over again.
Dustin suggested a god of knowledge, Clarke, who blessed and guided those with curiosity, imagination, and a knack for invention. Steve shot that one down immediately. He was never one to be overly imaginative or curious; he preferred to deal with concrete things. Out of their quickly dwindling list, Robin reluctantly suggested Hargrove, a war god favored by a nearby kingdom, but if Carver was ill-fitting, then Hargrove was outright repellent to Steve.
"C'mon, Steve, you gotta pick someone!" Dustin huffed in frustration. 
Robin thunked her head against the table in the library where they were looking up deities. She was obviously at her wit's end too. Steve, however, just dug his heels in with a particularly stubborn scowl.
"I can't just pick anyone!" Steve said. "If I'm going to pledge my sword to someone, it has to be someone...someone good. Someone that, I don't know, someone I can believe in, even when--no especially when things go wrong. That’s the whole point!"
"Yeah, I get that," Robin sighed, a mix of fond and annoyed, "but this is the eighth book we've gone through and the only one left here is called the King of Darkness which is hardly going to--huh."
Robin paused mid-rant to look at the page more closely. Steve and Dustin both huddled around her to peek into the book as well. Dustin also made a sound of curiosity.
"That's weird," Dustin said.
"Right?" Robin asked enthusiastically.
"What? What's weird?" Steve didn't get what caught their attention.
"This god only has a couple of sentences," Dustin explained, "And they don't really make sense. Something about dark creatures and the undeserving? The grammar and structure is all weird though."
"It looks like a half-assed translation," Robin added with a nod. "We should find the original text."
"Yeah! And if we can make a better translation, we could get it added to the next edition and they'd have to put our names on the book," Dustin said excitedly. Robin's eyes lit up at the thought and they both rushed off to the stacks to track down any original sources.
"Guys! Guys, what about my..."
The librarian hushed Steve, irritated. Steve groaned in defeat.
"...godly choices. Yeah, fine," Steve slumped back on his seat. "I need to find non-nerd friends."
Two days later, Robin and Dustin finished translating a slim, dusty book. They were nearly vibrating in their seats as Steve reviewed their notes on what they found. Dustin gripped his arm and gave him a shake.
"So? What do you think?" he asked excitedly.
Robin slung her arm across Steve's shoulders. With more tenderness than Steve expected, she said, "I know it doesn't seem like it, he doesn't really fit with your whole style, but it could work."
"Yeah," Steve said with a hopeful smile. "Yeah, this feels right."
--
It took longer than Steve would've liked, but eventually he managed to track down a small, crumbling shrine. It was an alcove carved near the entrance--no more than a crack in the stone really--of a cave at the edge of a lush forest. He almost missed it, it was so drowned in overgrown crawling vines and weeds. It bore a modest statue, no bigger than Steve, standing atop an equally modest plinth. There was a spot that obviously held a plaque once, but it must’ve been dug out by thieves at some point.
The sight of it made something in Steve's chest twinge; a strange pang of melancholy at seeing a god so forgotten and abandoned. It surprised him as he had never been particularly religious, but there was just something about this one that drew him in.
It was the middle of the day, so Steve quickly made camp and took advantage of the light to begin clearing the shrine. He started where the plaque had been, scrubbing off the dirt and moss that had filled the indentation. He knew a good smith; he could commission a new plaque to be made. After that, he weeded the immediate area around the plinth where worshipers would typically lay their offerings and pray.
By the time he finished that, it was late afternoon and he decided that was good enough for today. He had to eat and get a few hours of sleep so he could be alert once night fell. When he curled up on his bedroll, he couldn't help the grin that spread on his face. He was going to offer himself to his god tonight, and with any luck, his god would accept him.
--
He woke to a multitude of high pitched squeaks and the sound of many, many flapping wings. The sun had just fully set, and the stars that could be seen through the canopy burned brightly. Steve took his time to fasten on his armor and scabbard properly, and fixed his hair so not a strand was out of place. He took a few deep breaths to calm an unexpected bout of nerves before going to the shrine and kneeling.
His god had no official prayers. Or rather, the prayers for his god were forgotten. Robin and Dustin did their best to find anything prayer-like but it had been in vain. They suspected that most of the god's holy items and lore were purposely lost. Lacking that, Steve decided it was best that he introduce himself.
"Um, hi," he started and immediately winced. "Sorry. I'm not used to...this. I couldn't find any of your…holy words? Prayers? The right ways to speak to you, I guess.
"I'm Steve. Steve Harrington. I'm a fighter. I finished my training a few weeks back. I was the top of my cohort when it came to combat. I'm good with my sword and I know how to take a hit. I can turn just about anything into a weapon if it's needed."
Here Steve paused for a moment, straining to hear but there was nothing other than the typical sounds of a night out in the woods. Steve took a breath and plowed forward.
"I want to be more than a fighter, though. I don't want to just wave a sword around for nothing. I want it to...to matter. So I spent a lot of time trying to decide who to wield my sword for. It took me a while, but I found you. I want to be your shield and sword, if you'll have me."
Steve stopped again to listen. Nothing. Robin warned him this might happen. Gods didn't always accept warriors who offered themselves to them, and forgotten gods weren't always reachable. It was fine, though; he’d try again tomorrow night. Steve turned in just before dawn, eager for night again.
--
Steve worked on clearing the vines tangled around the statue's legs and feet. He yanked out the thick, scraggly vines, and carefully picked apart the prickling thorny ones. There was a particular gnarl of vines that didn't seem like they had a stranglehold on his god's statue. They were healthy and strong, and the way they curled and grew looked more like a caress than an invasion. He decided to leave those on, though he gently rearranged them while removing the more invasive vines so they looked more decorative.
When night arrived with the sound of squeaks and wings, Steve went to kneel at the shrine. He introduced himself again, gave the same spiel as the night before. Still he heard nothing. He scratched the back of his neck in mild insecurity.
“I guess I should tell you I didn’t find you on my own. My friends Robin and Dustin helped me. They’re way smarter than me, you know? Total nerds. I can swing a sword like nothing, but books and research? Yeah, that never works out for me, so they helped me look up all sorts of gods.
“There’s a lot of them. Way more than I thought. Dustin and Robin both recommended me ones or vetoed others. They were getting frustrated with me because I kept rejecting the ones they gave me. 
“Then Robin found you. Kind of by accident, to be honest. But she did her research thing and I knew that I wanted to carry your symbol. It took me forever to find this shrine. Robin said this was probably the only shrine you had left, so I had to find it. 
“Dustin kept saying it was on the other side of the forest, but obviously he was wrong. Not that he’ll ever admit it, the little shit, but whatever. I’m sorry your shrine was abandoned like this, but I promise I’ll fix it up. I’m good with my hands, I can do it.”
There was no response to his admittedly disorganized ramble. It was fine, he told himself. He needed to be patient. He’d come back the next night.
Around the statue’s waist there was another tangled mess of vines, except these vines had died and rotted to dark sludge. There was fungus growing on it, and it reeked. It was gross. Steve scrubbed at it for hours because the rot had stained the stone. He was able to get rid of the rot and most of the stains before going to catch a few hours of sleep in the afternoon.
Night fell and Steve was kneeling for the third time. He repeated most of what he said the previous two nights. There was still no response. He thought maybe he was pushing too hard. He’d never been the super talkative type anyway. He could share the quiet night with his god, if that was what his god wanted.
A few hours passed when he was startled out of his near meditative state by the sound of snapping twigs. He leapt to his feet, hand on his scabbard. Someone–a man by the look of it–stumbled out of the woods. He was pale and dark haired, dressed in ragged clothes that were probably awful even when they were new. He looked like a vagabond. 
Steve stepped in front of the shrine, protectively. The stranger grinned at him and Steve could already tell he was not going to enjoy the conversation that was about to happen.
“Who are you and what are you doing here?” Steve asked firmly, cutting the man off before he could speak. The smile only grew wider.
“I could ask you the same thing, sir,” the man said, adopting the annoyed huff of a wealthy lord. Steve scowled.
“I asked first.”
“I asked second!”
“You didn’t ask me anything,” Steve responded, somewhat smug. The man paused and then snorted a laugh.
“Yeah, okay.” He raised his hands in mock surrender. “You got me.”
“So?”
“So what?”
“What are you doing here? Who are you?” Steve repeated shortly. The teasing grin was back, and Steve felt his scowl deepen.
“Nothing and no one, m’lord,” the man bows mockingly.
“I’m not a lord.”
“Huh. Could’ve fooled me. You’re certainly as demanding as any lord I’ve ever met.”
“Oh fuck you,” Steve snapped. “I’m a holy warrior.”
The man laughed at him outright.
“Well that doesn’t sound very holy warrior-ish. Are your type allowed to swear?”
Steve grinded his teeth and decided it was not worth it to continue this conversation for much longer.
“Look, if you’re here to steal, I’ve got nothing on me.”
“That’s exactly what someone with something to steal would say.”
“Well, I don’t! I’m on a pilgrimage and I don’t want to spill blood on holy ground. So.” Steve wrapped a hand around the hilt of his sword. “Leave. Please.”
“Holy ground? Here?” the man barks out a laugh. “Don’t you know what this place is?”
“Yes,” Steve says shortly, placing himself more firmly between the shrine and the man. “Please leave. There shouldn’t be violence done here.”
“Oh, it’s far too late for that. This place used to belong to the King of Darkness. It’s said he was so evil that nothing grew here until he was run out and defeated by the god of righteousness. You know the one. Really plays up the holier than thou thing by making his hair all gold and glowy? Gotta say, you could give him a run for his money though.”
“You’re wrong.”
“No really! Your hair is great. Way better than Carver, even with the glowy thing.” 
“Not that!” Steve said in frustration. This guy really liked the sound of his own voice and Steve was starting to get a headache. It was near dawn and all he wanted was to spend the last hour or so in the quiet night with his god.
“So you agree your hair is better than a god’s?” The man tsks at him. “That’s pretty blasphemous. Are you sure you’re a holy warrior?”
“No! I mean, yes. Wait,” Steve growls at his own bumbling. “No, I’m not better than any god. But I am a holy warrior. Kind of.”
“Kind of.”
“Look, I’m working on it so I need you to leave. You’ve insulted him enough already.”
“Your god is the King of Dark–”
“Call him that again, and I will draw my sword,” Steve said, voice steely. “He’s the Lord of Night, and I won’t let you insult him at his own shrine.”
The man goes quiet for the first time since he showed up. He looked almost surprised, his mocking grin gone. His eyes flicked over to the dilapidated statue and then back at Steve.
“Lord of Night doesn’t sound much different than what I called him,” the man said lightly.
“Well, it is,” Steve told him. “Now, will you please leave?”
The man stared at him for a moment before shrugging. “Yeah, alright.” And then he left as suddenly as he had arrived.
The tension that had built up in Steve’s shoulders drained away. He went back to kneel in front of the shrine again when he noticed the barest hint of sunrise on the horizon. He cursed under his breath then was hit with a wave of embarrassment at cursing in front of the shrine and the whole situation that had transpired.
“I’m sorry about that,” Steve said, abashed. “It won’t happen again, I promise.”
It happened again.
now with an additional snippet here and here
ps: i do not do those reader tag list things. if you'd like to keep up with my stuff, follow my writing tag: trensu tells stories
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ameliora-j · 1 year ago
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Therapist!steddie x reader smut? (Naive reader) you can choose a storyline :)
𐐪𐑂 it’s twisted tuesday! send in ur requests ᵕ̈
content: smut, bully!eddie, therapist!steve, power imbalance, cnc, unprotected piv, size kink, loss of virginity, innocent!reader, naive!reader, degradation, pussy spanking, orgasm control, DARK CONTENT, THIS IS AN 18+ BLOG MDNI
“do you think that you’re learning, yn?” steve asks. “to forgive eddie, i mean.” he clarifies.
“yes, dr. harrington” you nod, smiling shyly. “i believe that i’ve forgiven him.” you say, looking to the curly-haired man who has a permanent smirk playing on his lips.
“alright then… we’ve got one more test of trust, and then we’ll be done with these forgiveness lessons” he smiles. “eddie, go and sit on the couch, please” he instructs. eddie follows orders quickly, sitting on the couch with his legs spread wide. “remove your panties, yn” steve orders.
you stand from the chair, shimmying your panties down your legs beneath your skirt as you hear eddie working his belt buckle. “today, i want you to sit on his cock. and let him use you as he pleases, okay?” dr. harrington smiles.
“okay” you nod, tucking your hair behind your ear. you turn and see eddie stroking his thick cock. he’s already leaking precum, and the tip is red and angry. you walk over to him, setting your knee on the couch as you move to straddle him.
“face me” steve corrects your positioning. you’re already nodding once more and turning around. eddie holds his cock in his right hand, grabbing your hip with his left to held guide you down on the thick shaft.
you whine as you sit slowly, squirming in slight discomfort at the burning stretch. “eddie…” you gasp around a soft moan as he’s fully bottomed out.
“oh fuck baby…” he groans, his head falling back against the couch. “your little cunt is so tight… are you a virgin, princess?” he teases, reaching to rub gently at your swollen little clit.
“yeah…” you mewl, nodding as your hips buck up against his hand. eddie and steve chuckle as the former kisses across your shoulder.
“that’s too bad…” eddie pouts. “cus ‘m not gonna be gentle” he growls. he takes your hips in a strong hold, holding you upright on his cock and forcing you to be still. “just gonna sit here and use you like my own little fleshlight… and you’re gonna take it like a good girl” he grunts.
“good girl” you moan dumbly as eddie begins moving you on his cock. true to his word, he uses you just like a fleshlight. his hands are gripping your hips tightly, doing all the work as he uses your pussy to massage his dick to an orgasm.
“you’re so fucking tight… perfect for this” he groans, his hips bucking up as he slams you down on his cock. you’re unable to help the loud cacophony of moans spilling over your lips as his cock pounds your gspot. “the perfect slut to use like a toy… i feel you clenching around me bitch” he grunts, slapping your clit roughly. “don’t you dare cum before me.”
“yes, sir!” you shriek, clenching tighter in an attempt to hold off your orgasm. it’s not long before eddie is moaning louder, lifting you on and off of his cock faster.
you feel the muscle twitching inside your cunt, beginning to leak precum as eddie lets out a pretty whine. “i’m gonna cum baby” he breathes in your ear, wrapping a hand around your throat as he pistons his hips into you. “gonna fill this slutty cunt up with my babies. take your panties home and make you leave here dripping with me” he growls.
“please…” you whimper softly, searching for something to hold onto as your body begins to shake with pleasure. “i need to… please…” you whine dumbly as you finally settle on gripping his forearm.
“cum, bitch” he growls, using his free hand to slap your clit once more. “soak my cock while i pump you full of my babies” he growls, fucking you impossibly harder.
you’re unable to stop your screams, tears falling down your face as your hips buck erratically as you squirt on him. eddie’s groans can be heard behind you as he holds you still, fucking you through your orgasm until he presses up against your cervix, spraying his cum directly into your awaiting womb.
you whine softly as you fall back against his chest lazily. “thank you, eddie…” you whisper softly.
“thank you, my little toy” he taunts, patting your clit roughly a few times.
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ddejavvu · 5 months ago
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What about stepbro!Steve who asks to share you with his friend Eddie just to show him what a good girl you are and how amazingly he treats you. Maybe even how only he can make you feel good
this post is 18+ (and dark), minors dni. Don't like, don't read. Block 'dark mei' for no more dark content.
Steve does an excellent job of holding your attention, but the fifth time that Munson groans to your left where he's tugging at his cock makes you glance over. He's hunched and his hands are shaking slightly, the head of his cock an angry red as he brings himself to the tipping point and refrains from cumming only because Steve hasn't yet. You assume it's some infernal game, a test of masculinity to see who can hold out the longest, but Eddie's face is bright red and his grip on his cock looks painful.
"You wanna show the Munson freak what he's missing?" Steve scoffs, pressing a large hand onto your cheek to turn your head towards Eddie. He pries at your swollen lips with a rough thumb, gaping your mouth open for Eddie to see.
"Wanna stuff it in there, Munson? Or here?" Steve's hands flit to your tits, one leaving your hip where he'd been holding you steady while pounding into you. He presses your tits together, "Wanna shove your dick in there and see if you can hit her chin? Or here?" Steve grabs your hips again, lifting them at an angle that drives his cock oh-so-deep into your sloppy cunt, eliciting a cry from you. It gives Eddie a clear view of your cunt sucking Steve's cock in, swallowing it whole and spitting it back out again slick with arousal. Eddie's hips begin to stutter as he loses his willpower, and Steve's face curls into a dark sneer as he turns back to you.
"Pathetic. Wants his dick in you so bad just seeing it makes him cum in his pants. You want him, baby?"
When you don't answer, stuck between hesitance and mind-blowing pleasure, Steve's thick brows raise, "Hm? You want him? Wanna let the freak fuck you?"
No is rude, yes is unfaithful.
"Wh-what?" You try, but Steve's eyes darken with wicked delight.
"You do want him to fuck you, don't you? You gonna take pity on him, honey? Gonna let him get his dick wet? You're such a saint."
"It's your lucky day, Munson," Steve snaps, hands cupping the underside of your ass as his hips snap into you, "You get my sloppy seconds. But don't think for even a second that you'll get her to cream like I do."
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